Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres [1 ed.] 1443887358, 9781443887359

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Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres

Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres Edited by

Svorad Zavarský, Lucy R Nicholas and Andrea Riedl

Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres Edited by Svorad Zavarský, Lucy R Nicholas and Andrea Riedl This book first published 2016 Cambridge Scholars Publishing Lady Stephenson Library, Newcastle upon Tyne, NE6 2PA, UK British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Copyright © 2016 by Svorad Zavarský, Lucy R Nicholas, Andrea Riedl and contributors All rights for this book reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. ISBN (10): 1-4438-8735-8 ISBN (13): 978-1-4438-8735-9

This collection of essays forms part of the research project “Polemical Theology and Its Contexts in Early Modern Slovakia” (VEGA 2/0170/12) carried out at the Ján Stanislav Institute of Slavonic Studies of the Slovak Academy of Sciences, Bratislava, in the years 2012–2015.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

List of Illustrations ..................................................................................... xi Preface ...................................................................................................... xiii Prolusio by Way of Introduction ............................................................... xv Old and New, True and False in the Worldview of a Late SeventeenthCentury Jesuit: Themes of Polemical Theology in Three Dissertations by Martinus Szent-Ivany SJ (1688–1690) Svorad Zavarský Part I: Polemical Theology and History Chapter One ................................................................................................. 3 Johannes Magnus’s Historia de omnibus Gothorum Sveonumque regibus (1554) as a Religious Polemical Treatise Hans Helander Chapter Two .............................................................................................. 15 History as Polemical Theology in Elizabethan England: Thomas Becon’s Relikes of Rome Jonathan Reimer Chapter Three ............................................................................................ 27 Polemical Discourse in Joannes Josephowicz’s Annalium urbis Leopoliensis tomus extravagans (1703) Lyudmyla Shevchenko-Savchyns’ka Part II: Polemical Theology and Sacred Antiquity Chapter Four .............................................................................................. 45 Catholic Ecclesiology and Protestant Parody in the Polemics of Hungaria Superior Erika Garadnai

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Chapter Five .............................................................................................. 55 Kirchenbild und Prophetenrolle im polemischen Werk von István Czeglédi aus dem Jahr 1659 Zsombor Martis Part III: Polemical Theology, Classics, and Poetry Chapter Six ................................................................................................ 67 Exploring Polemical Theology in Humanism through a Little-Known Tract on the Eucharist by the Great Tudor Humanist, Roger Ascham Lucy R Nicholas Chapter Seven............................................................................................ 85 The Neo-Latin Satires of Hannardus Gamerius as Polemical Theology David A. Porter Chapter Eight ............................................................................................. 99 Counter-Reformation before Its Time: Polemical Theology in Jakov Buniü’s Epic De vita et gestis Christi Maja Matasoviü Chapter Nine............................................................................................ 117 John Milton and the Old English Poem on the Fall of Men: Inspiration, Borrowing, or Polemic? Zoya Metlitskaya Part IV: Polemical Theology and Eastern Christianity Chapter Ten ............................................................................................. 129 Polemik im Kontext literarisch-theologischer Auseinandersetzung zwischen Ost- und Westkirche im 13. Jahrhundert Andrea Riedl Chapter Eleven ........................................................................................ 143 An Eighteenth-Century Project for the Conversion of Southern Slavs to Catholicism: Krastyo Peykich’s Zarcalo istine (1716) Iva Manova

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Chapter Twelve ....................................................................................... 161 Bellarmin-Rezeption im Umfeld der Patriarchen von Konstantinopel in der ersten Hälfte des 17. Jahrhunderts Vratislav Zervan Part V: Polemical Theology in Paratexts Chapter Thirteen ...................................................................................... 179 Dead Readers Society: Early Modern Theological Debates in Historical Anthropological Perspectives Zsombor Tóth Chapter Fourteen ..................................................................................... 195 Polemics in Commentaries in Czech Bible Readings JiĜí M. Havlík Part VI: Polemical Theology and Toleration Chapter Fifteen ........................................................................................ 219 Weigel–Weigelianer–Antiweigelianer: Auf der Suche nach der wahren „katholischen“ Kirche, oder vom Luthertum zur „Erzketzerei“ Martin Žemla Chapter Sixteen ....................................................................................... 229 Die Beziehung zwischen reformierten und katholischen Glaubensstreiten und der Religionstoleranz am Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts im südöstlichen Teil des Königreichs Ungarn Ádám Hegyi Part VII: Polemical Theology and Conversion Chapter Seventeen ................................................................................... 247 Religious Controversy in Early Eighteenth-Century Conversion Narratives Written in Hungarian Ágnes Baricz Chapter Eighteen ..................................................................................... 263 The Repentant Reformist: The Evolution of Enea Silvio Piccolomini’s Views on Conciliarism in His Letters Tomislav Matiü

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Part VIII: Polemical Theology in Hymns, Emblems, and Drama Chapter Nineteen ..................................................................................... 277 Kirchenlieder als „verborgene Kontroverstheologie“? Marie Škarpová Chapter Twenty ....................................................................................... 289 Zentrale protestantische Themen in Josua Wegelins Buch Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus (1630) Miroslav Varšo Chapter Twenty-One ............................................................................... 309 Das Jesuitendrama im Kontext der Kontroverstheologie (am Beispiel der Slowakei) Ladislav Kaþic Chapter Twenty-Two............................................................................... 321 Frühneuzeitliche Passionsprozessionsspiele als Projekt der katholischen Erneuerung Jaša Drnovšek Contributors ............................................................................................. 335 Index of Names........................................................................................ 341

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Fig. 1-1

Johannes Magnus’s Historia de omnibus Gothorum Sveonumque regibus (1554), beginning of chapter one. Photo courtesy of the Uppsala University Library, Uppsala.

Fig. 4-1

István Matkó’s Banyasz Csakany, title page. Photo courtesy of the National Széchényi Library, Budapest.

Fig. 20-1 Josua Wegelin’s Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, emblem one. By courtesy of the Spiš Diocesan Archives, Spišská Kapitula. Fig. 20-2 Josua Wegelin’s Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, emblem three. By courtesy of the Spiš Diocesan Archives, Spišská Kapitula. Fig. 20-3 Josua Wegelin’s Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, emblem eight. By courtesy of the Spiš Diocesan Archives, Spišská Kapitula. Fig. 20-4 Josua Wegelin’s Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, emblem ten. By courtesy of the Spiš Diocesan Archives, Spišská Kapitula.

PREFACE

The present collection of essays has sprung from an international conference of the same name which took place in Bratislava in early December 2014. Organized by the Ján Stanislav Institute of Slavonic Studies of the Slovak Academy of Sciences, it formed part of a research project devoted to early modern polemical theology and its contexts. The conference call read as follows: The confessional division within the Church in the early modern period was accompanied by fervent activity in the field of polemical theology. This gave rise to a specific literary genre which, in spite of its abundant representation among early modern texts, has not received due attention from philologists as a distinct form of thought and expression. When reading early modern texts, one comes across references and allusions to confessional polemics again and again. Evidently, writings of religious controversy, whose very purpose lay in their practical application, were capable of exceeding their own sphere of religious beliefs, making their presence felt in society and exerting their influence on individual people’s lives. Polemical theology developed its own system of arguments, images, biblical quotations, and so forth, which to a great extent became standardized through several prominent manuals of controversy, such as the ones by Martin Becan, Francis Coster, or Robert Bellarmine on the Catholic side. Patterns of polemical-theological discourse were widely known among the educated, and their influences can be traced across a broad spectrum of early modern literary genres—in historiography, drama, poetry, oratory, epistolography, scientific dissertations, and others. Therefore it can be reasonably presumed that it would be beneficial to regard the system of early modern polemical theology with its ever-recurring motifs and fixed forms of argumentation as a suitable key of interpretation with which to decipher “polemical messages” encoded in literary works. Our conference aims to take an interdisciplinary look at early modern texts, both Latin and vernacular, through the prism of the fundamental themes of polemical theology—for example, the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, the invocation of the saints, the so-called human traditions, the issues of free will, good works, and their merits, the sola scriptura principle, the visibility of the Church, papal primacy, purgatory, predestination, and so forth—and/or against the backdrop of the marks of the true church (notae ecclesiae), whether they be the four classical marks contained in the Creed—una, sancta, catholica, apostolica—or the more

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elaborate concept of the fifteen marks developed by Robert Bellarmine, or any other model, Protestant or Catholic, applied in the early modern period. It should be remembered, though, that the notion of polemical theology is not confined solely to the Catholic-Protestant controversy but also includes dissensions among Protestant denominations, polemics with the Orthodox, Muslims, and Jews, as well as arguments against atheists and the religiously indifferent. The organizer hopes to bring together scholars—especially philologists, historians, and theologians—researching this phenomenon from different perspectives and across different literary genres.

I was surprised to receive responses from scholars hailing from fourteen countries and specializing in different fields of research. The papers they offered brought before my mind’s eye a variegated, yet harmonious picture of the early modern uses of polemical theology. Their topics ranged from Sweden in the north to Dalmatia in the south, from Transylvania in the east to the British Isles in the west. They not only covered some of the major areas of early modern literature—such as historiography, poetry, satire, epistolography, religious tracts, and scientific dissertations—but were also confessionally well-balanced with their scope as broad as to include all four main traditions of early modern Christendom—Catholic, Orthodox, Lutheran, and Reformed. The essays contained in this collection reflect the richness of response evoked by the call. They aptly illustrate how scholars working in different disciplines have adopted and transformed the initial idea. Some of them only lightly touch upon polemical theology, so that an uninitiated reader may not even notice the subtlety of their argument, while others address the major themes of confessional polemics in very explicit terms. This collection thus offers a sample of a diversified approach to the phenomenon in question, and I hope it can inspire further research in this area. Finally, I wish to express my sincere thanks to my co-editors. This project could not have been realized without the help of Lucy R Nicholas (King’s College London) and Andrea Riedl (University of Vienna), both of whom participated in the Bratislava conference and kindly accepted my invitation to collaborate in bringing this volume into existence. Svorad Zavarský Bratislava–Devínska Nová Ves December 2015

PROLUSIO BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION OLD AND NEW, TRUE AND FALSE IN THE WORLDVIEW OF A LATE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY JESUIT: THEMES OF POLEMICAL THEOLOGY IN THREE DISSERTATIONS BY MARTINUS SZENT-IVANY SJ (1688–1690) SVORAD ZAVARSKÝ

In the late 1570s the Italian humanist and lawyer Guido Pancirolli (1523– 1599) wrote an interesting book in which he tried to place the ancient things that had long ceased to exist, as it were, onto one pan of a balance scale, and the recently invented things unknown to the ancients on the other.1 These are the author’s words in his preface addressed to Emmanuel Philibert (1528–1580), duke of Savoy: I recall that during those extraordinary colloquies diligently and frequently held by Your Most Serene Highness I was asked about those things that once were in use among the ancients but have now fallen into disuse, as *

My thanks go to Francis X. Luther (Audubon, Pennsylvania) for having kindly proofread this text. This essay is a partial result of the research project “Polemical theology and its contexts in early modern Slovakia” [Polemická teológia a jej kontexty na Slovensku v novoveku] (VEGA 2/0170/12) carried out at the Ján Stanislav Institute of Slavonic Studies of the Slovak Academy of Sciences in the years 2012–2015. 1 Guido Pancirollus, Rerum memorabilium libri duo. Quorum prior deperditarum, posterior noviter inventarum est, trans. Heinrich Salmuth (Ambergae/Amberg: Typis Forsterianis, 1599).

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Originally written in Italian, Pancirolli’s book remained in manuscript until it was made available to the erudite world in 1599 through the Latin translation of Heinrich Salmuth Jr. (ca. 1578–1613). The book is divided into two parts: the first part contains a catalogue of sixty-five perished phenomena which were used in the time of ancient Rome (see Appendix I), while the second includes twenty-five new inventions which came into existence after the fall of the Roman Empire (see Appendix II). Although Pancirolli left the question of loss and gain—or, as he put it, of debt and credit—unanswered, inviting the reader to draw his own conclusion, the mere comparison of numbers shows eloquently which side the Italian humanist was more favourably inclined toward. To put it simply, Pancirolli appears to have been an outspoken admirer of the ancients. A little more than a century later, Martinus Szent-Ivany (1633–1705), a Slovak Jesuit based at the University of Trnava,3 published a series of three dissertations (De rerum novarum inventione [1688], De rerum memorabilium orbis terrestris deperditione ac desitione [1689], De rebus falsae et dubiae existentiae [1690])4 inspired by Guido Pancirolli. SzentIvany’s conception differs radically from that of his Italian predecessor in several ways. First of all, the Jesuit author reversed Pancirolli’s order so that his first dissertation is focused on new inventions. Comparison of the ancient and modern worlds is not as relevant for him anymore; it is rather the modern world, the overseas discoveries, the technical and scientific progress that shapes or modifies the overall vision of the world, including 2 Pancirollus, Rerum memorabilium, 1-2: “Inter egregia illa colloquia, quæ assiduè & frequenter habet Serenissima celsitudo Tua, quæsitum ex me memini de iis rebus, quæ apud veteres quidem in usu fuerunt; hodiè verò ivere in desuetudinem: & rursum, de iis, quæ post Imperium Romanum primùm sunt adinventæ. Equidem . . . collectionem quandam feci . . . ut ad Plutarchi exemplum, quasi paralellos sibi constituere, & hæc cum illis comparare invicem, nec non perpendere secum possit Celsitudo Tua, utrum plus damni, an lucri fecerimus.” 3 The University of Trnava (Universitas Tyrnaviensis), founded in 1635 and run by the Society of Jesus, was the largest and most prestigious educational institution in the Kingdom of Hungary during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. 4 First published in the astronomical almanac Calendarium Tyrnaviense for the respective years, later included in the second decade (Decadis secundae pars prima [1691]) of M. Szent-Ivany’s Curiosiora et selectiora variarum scientiarum miscellanea (Tyrnaviae/Trnava: Typis Academicis, 1689–1709).

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its past. The proportion of “old” to “new” shifted to a fifty-fifty balance in Szent-Ivany’s design. Following the thought of the French historian Jean Bodin (1529–1596) and the Scottish-Polish naturalist John Jonston (1603– 1675), Szent-Ivany was a wholehearted promoter of the idea of progress, resolutely rejecting the inveterate belief that the world was constantly deteriorating and on its way to ruin, which was traditionally represented by the image of the four ages—the golden, the silver, the copper, and the iron. “This opinion must be completely expunged from the human mind,” Szent-Ivany wrote in his cosmological dissertation (1678).5 For him, classical antiquity was no more the ideal model; he did not regard it as the standard to follow. On the other hand, it is noteworthy that his second dissertation, which dealt with the ancient things6 that were no more to be found, extended its focus to include also biblical antiquity. Szent-Ivany did not split mankind’s history dichotomically into the period of classical antiquity and that of its modern emulation, but he viewed it as a continuum beginning with the creation of the world and tending towards a final completion. For him, there were no dark middle ages. This view can be aptly contrasted with that of an anonymous English translator who published Pancirolli’s work in London in 1715.7 The Englishman wrote in his Preface to the Appendix to Pancirolli that the modern advancement of civilization and culture had already compensated, or at least would shortly compensate, for the losses which mankind had suffered by both the extinction of the ancient civilization and the onset of the age of ignorance and darkness. The anonymous translator of Pancirolli expressed his feelings in the following words: After these Times of Ignorance, rose a Generation of Men of vigorous, inquisitive and subtil Spirits, who, asham’d of the Sottishness of Priests 5

Martinus Szent-Ivany, “Dissertatio cosmographica seu de mundi systemate,” in Curiosiora et selectiora variarum scientiarum miscellanea (Tyrnaviae/Trnava: Typis Academicis, 1689), 30: “Evellenda proinde est penitùs è mentibus hominum opinio illa: Mundum hunc perpetuo defluxu per ætates labi, ac deficere, continuòque ruere in deteriùs.” For a modern commented edition of this work, see Martin Sentiváni, Dissertatio cosmographica seu de mundi systemate/Sústava sveta: Kozmologická štúdia, edited with an introduction, translation, and commentary (in Slovak) by Svorad Zavarský (Slavica Slovaca, 46, 2011, no. 3 [Supplementum]). 6 The term “things” is used throughout this text as the most appropriate translation for the Latin noun “res” and the broad variety of phenomena it comprises in the three dissertations by Martinus Szent-Ivany. 7 The History of Many Memorable Things lost and an Account of many excellent Things found, now in Use among the Moderns, both Natural and Artificial (London: Printed for John Nicholson, sold by John Morphew, 1715).

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and Monks . . . set themselves to recover the lost Arts . . . and fetched the ancient Authors out of the dusty Cells . . . and so were the Instruments, not only of a Reformation of Religion, but of communicating all useful Knowledge to all Persons and Places.8

The discrepant views on historical development held by Szent-Ivany and the English translator respectively were no doubt confessionally motivated. Szent-Ivany’s conception differs from that of Pancirolli even more manifestly in that it comprises a third category of things—namely, those the existence of which can be regarded as false, or at least dubious. This is in perfect accord with the Jesuit author’s way of looking at antiquity. Not only did he not admire it as the standard of perfection, he even went as far as to show his readers that ancient authors were not seldom mistaken, thus indirectly making the ancients responsible for introducing false concepts into the history of human thought. The third dissertation, dealing with things of false and dubious existence, represents a counterweight to both the first and second dissertations, clearly pointing out that neither were the ancients infallible nor have the moderns completely liberated themselves from error. Pancirolli’s bipolar, and to some extent also static, view of history seems here to be replaced by a more dynamic and coherent model. Now, let us take a brief look at each of the three dissertations, considering the polemical theological codes9 either overtly or latently present in them. The dissertation on the invention of new things (De rerum novarum inventione, 1688) pays attention to fifty phenomena related to new geographic discoveries, to astronomical knowledge, as well as to the progress of science, technology, and arts (see Appendix III). Especially worthy of attention is paragraph number forty-seven which is devoted to the propagation of faith in China. Szent-Ivany writes: The enormously vast, most cultured, and very populous Empire of China, consisting of fifteen huge provinces, each of which equals an entire kingdom, for which reason it is believed to be almost as large as whole Europe . . . remained until very recently impervious to the preachers of the

8

“An Appendix to Pancirollus,” in The History of Many Memorable Things, 422. By “codes” I mean the more or less visible manifestations of all different concepts which influence an author when he is writing a text. These, either intentionally or unintentionally incorporated into the text, can then be read “between the lines.”

9

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Gospel and Christian doctrine . . . But these obstacles . . . have been gloriously overcome by the Society of Jesus.10

It is obvious to all those familiar with the polemical theological discourse of the early modern period that these words reflect one of the socalled marks of the true church (notae ecclesiae). In general terms referred to as “catholicity,” and more specifically defined by Robert Bellarmine as “amplitude,”11 this mark identifies the true church with one that is spread all over the world, as opposed to non-Catholic churches which, as Catholic controversialists of those times used to emphasize, were hardly to be found except “in some few provinces of Europe.” In one of his polemical theological works, perhaps best characterized as an apology of Catholicism written in the form of a fictive convert’s narrative (Quinquaginta rationes seu motiva),12 Szent-Ivany addressed the problem of the church’s catholicity in the following manner: After this I took into Consideration the true Marks of the Church of Christ, viz. that it is one, Holy, Catholick and Apostolical. But not one of them 10

Martinus Szent-Ivany, “Dissertatio curiosa miscellanea de rerum novarum inventione,” in Curiosiora et selectiora, Decadis secundae pars prima (1691), 261: “Vastissimum, cultissimum, simul ac populosissimum Chinarum Imperium, utpote quod in se 15. amplissimas, ac Regnis integris æquivalentes continet Provincias, (unde censetur totam fere adæquare Europam) . . . úsque ad postrema hæc nostra tempora, Evangelij, & doctrinæ Christianæ prædicatoribus impervia mansit . . . Hæc tamen ipsa obstacula . . . gloriosè perrupit JESU Societas.” All translations are mine unless otherwise noted. 11 Robertus Bellarminus, “De notis Ecclesiae,” in Disputationes de controversiis Christianae fidei adversus huius temporis haereticos, Tomus I, Quarta controversia generalis (De conciliis et Eccelsia), Liber IV, Caput VII. Bellarmine’s Disputationes were first published at Ingolstadt in 1581, and subsequently republished in numerous editions and in different places. The mark of amplitudo is the fourth of Bellarmine’s notae. 12 [Martinus Szent-Ivany], Quinquaginta rationes et Motiva, Cur in tanta varietate Religionum et Confessionum Fidei, in Christianitate moderno tempore vigentium, sola Religio Romano-Catholica, sit eligenda, et omnibus aliis praeferenda. A Quodam Neo-Catholico Omnibus Dominis Acatholicis pro Xenio Novi Anni M. DCCII. affectuosissime oblata (Tyrnaviae/Trnava: Typis Academicis, 1702). For a more detailed discussion of this polemical-apologetical work, see Svorad Zavarský, “Quinquaginta Rationes–Fifty Reasons: From an Opusculum Polemicum Tyrnaviense to a Standard Catholic Book in America,” in Acta Conventus NeoLatini Monasteriensis: Proceedings of the Fifteenth International Congress of Neo-Latin Studies (Münster 2012), ed. Astrid Steiner-Weber and Karl A. E. Enenkel (Leiden–Boston: Brill, 2015), 614-625.

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Prolusio could I find in the reform’d, or to give it its proper Name, the deform’d Church . . . They are . . . at a loss how to prove their Church Catholick or Universal; for their Faith has never been spread throughout the World, as the Roman has . . . And at this Day, it is not known over all the World. It has only nestled in some few Provinces of Europe, which is the smallest Part of the Universe, compared with Africa, Asia, and America, where it is so far from being establish’d, that it is not so much as mention’d.13

It is important to note that in his dissertation De rerum novarum inventione Szent-Ivany placed the question of the propagation of the true faith in the context of newly invented and previously unknown things, that is, in the context of progress and dynamism. In fact, the civilizing and cultivating role of Catholicism emerges more than once in this dissertation, though not as directly connected with polemical theology as in the above-mentioned case. Among the new things enumerated by Szent-Ivany there is also scholastic theology, canonical law, the invention of solmization by the Benedictine monk Guido of Arezzo (991/92–after 1033), the spiritual exercises of Ignatius of Loyola (1491–1556), and the concept of “media scientia” invented by the Jesuit theologian Luis de Molina (1535– 1600). Particularly significant is the inclusion of Guido of Arezzo in this catalogue because by doing so Szent-Ivany clearly opposed Pancirolli who had listed “musical perfection” among those achievements of the ancients that could not be equalled by the feats of the moderns. The Jesuit author had no scruples to recognize the contribution of medieval monastic culture and science to the general advancement of mankind. In this context, his praise of the Catholic missionary achievements in China, going hand in hand with new overseas discoveries, can be interpreted as an intention to point out the civilizing effect of the true church and its positive role in the progress of mankind. Let us next turn our attention to the second dissertation entitled De rerum memorabilium orbis terrestris deperditione ac desitione (1689). The fifty-one paragraphs, or entries, listed therein14 concentrate on biblical antiquity, on different natural products and related commodities, on ancient 13

Quoted according to the English translation of Quinquaginta rationes published as Fifty Reasons, or Motives Why the Roman Catholick Apostolick Religion ought to be preferr’d to all the Sects this Day in Christendom, And which induced his most Serene Highness Anthony Ulrick Duke of Brunswick and Lunenburg, &c. to abjure Lutheranism (London: Printed and sold by Thomas Meighan, 1715), 31-32. 14 There is a mistake in the numbering of paragraphs—namely, number forty occurs twice. (Though the mistake might have been intentional in order to seemingly reduce the number of paragraphs, so that the resulting number of the “lost” things would be the same as that of the recently invented ones.)

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edifices and ceremonies, as well as on the early modes of punishment and penitence (see Appendix IV). The last mentioned group is of special interest to us now. Quite logically, this group of things—paragraphs 40(41) to 43(44), and particularly the one on fasting—is related to the controversy concerning the so-called human traditions. There was a constant polemic between Catholics and Protestants as to whether the practices of the modern Roman Catholic Church were or were not in use as early as the first five centuries of the Christian era. Szent-Ivany dedicated a great portion of his controversialist works to this particular topic, and this not without a special reason to do so. Namely, Friedrich Spanheim Jr. (1632–1701), a prominent Reformed theologian based at the University of Leiden, declared in his refutation of one of Szent-Ivany’s works that he and his fellow believers would immediately become Catholics if these were able to prove that the Roman Catholic Church of their time was identical with the church of the initial centuries. Szent-Ivany seized upon what he probably deemed an easy opportunity, as he was convinced there was abundant historical evidence in support of the Catholic cause. In the dissertation on perished things, unlike in his polemical writings, Szent-Ivany’s goal was not so much to prove the antiquity of Roman Catholic discipline as rather to show that its strictness had greatly abated since the primeval times. If this is proved to be true, it somehow follows logically that the objections of the Protestants criticizing the Catholics for their clinging to “superstitious practices” and “mere additions” were little substantiated. If we dare acknowledge a polemical undertone in the mentioned paragraphs (40[41]-43[44]) of Szent-Ivany’s dissertation, this indeed seems to be a remarkable way of argumentation. For whilst Catholics were traditionally blamed for excessive use of outward means in their religious life, Szent-Ivany appears to be telling us just the opposite in a very matter-of-fact way: just as the monuments of classical antiquity perished, so did the ancient vigour of Christian discipline evaporate over the centuries. So, the commonplace image of the gradual increase of Roman additions to the apostolic faith is here opposed by the image of decrease in devotion and piety. Like Protestants, Catholics too strove to look back into the early periods of the Church’s existence, but with a different intention: they returned to their roots in order to invigorate and nourish their languid faith, which is just the opposite of cleansing it of medieval additions. The dissertation on things of false and dubious existence is the last of the three. All thirty-seven things (it is hard to think of a better expression to encompass the mixture of diverse phenomena) enumerated therein can be divided into five groups: (1) concepts and theories regarding the cos-

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mos, (2) fabulous animals, (3) manlike monsters and half-men half-beasts, (4) different concepts of fate, and (5) magical practices (see Appendix V). Considering the reasons that induced the author to regard these things as dubious or unreal, we can see his primary motive lay in the fact that no one had ever seen them with their own eyes nor was there any sufficient reason supporting their existence. It is repeatedly emphasized by SzentIvany that the ancient belief in the existence of these things was based on the common people’s ignorance and superstition. The Jesuit asserts that the writers of antiquity let themselves be deceived by popular beliefs, referred to in his dissertation as opinio vulgi or persuasio vulgi, and contented themselves with only reporting that which had been narrated to them. We will now fix our eyes on the fourth group of unreal things—the one devoted to different notions of fate (§26-§29). One of the concepts of fate is here designated as Fatum Acatholicum, the non-Catholic fate, by which is meant the Calvinist doctrine of predestination. Szent-Ivany writes in the respective paragraph: This fate, too, does not lag behind the other above-mentioned fates in terms of foolishness, whereas in terms of impiousness it far surpasses them all. For it either leads to horrible desperation or opens the way to perpetrating all possible sins. The dilemma of this fate is the following: Either I am from eternity predestined to glory or I am predestined to punishment. If I am predestined to glory, I shall necessarily be saved no matter how badly I live; If I am predestined to punishment, I shall necessarily be damned regardless of my good works. This reasoning is based on Calvin’s impious and foolish opinion which led him to think that people are predestined either to life or to eternal death by God’s pure will regardless of their merits and demerits. The mentioned dilemma should be solved thus: If I am predestined, that is, foreordained to achieve eternal life through certain means which, with the help of God’s grace, are in my power, I certainly shall achieve eternal life if I apply those means. On the other hand, if I am reprobate, that is, foreordained by God to hell because of the sins I shall freely commit, I certainly shall be damned if I commit those sins.15 15

Martinus Szent-Ivany, “Dissertatio curiosa miscellanea de rebus falsae et dubiae existentiae,” in Curiosiora et selectiora (Decadis secundae pars prima), 336-337: “Hoc quoque Fatum, in fatuitate prædictis aliis fatis non cedit, in impietate autem alia longe superat. Nam vel ad desperationem horrendam deducit, vel ad omnia scelera perpetranda viam adaperit. Cujus Fati hoc est Dilemma: Vel ab æterno sum prædestinatus, ad gloriam, vel reprobatus ad supplicium: si prædestinatus, necessariò salvabor, & si pessimè vixero: si reprobatus, necessariò damnabor, & si velim bene vivere. Nititur autem illud in Calvini impia & fatua opinione, quâ is existimabat homines nudo DEI arbitrio, citra proprium meritum, aut demeritum, alios ad

Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres xxiii

This whole passage reads as if it were copied out from Martinus Becanus’s (1563–1624) famous Manuale controversiarum. Consisting of commonplace formulations which could be found in every early modern handbook of polemical theology, these Szent-Ivany’s words, taken by themselves, lack any originality whatsoever. Nevertheless, if considered within the framework of the dissertation in which they are embedded, these polemical commonplaces come to be seen in a novel and astonishing perspective. That which was usually discussed independently as a problem in its own right and solely from the point of view of the doctrine of faith is here dealt with as part of a large set of either dubious or outspokenly unreal things. It is put on the same level with such phenomena as gryphs, basilisks, tritons, but also the Copernican theory. I would suggest that the placing of this Protestant dogma in the context of the dissertation on unreal things should be understood as pars pro toto. In this connection, it is quite interesting to observe that in his polemical writings Szent-Ivany always approached non-Catholic articles of faith by means of reductio ad absurdum, that is, by logically deducing absurd consequences from them. This approach of Szent-Ivany the controversialist corresponds surprisingly well with the intention of Szent-Ivany the polymath writing his dissertation De rebus falsae et dubiae existentiae. In conclusion, let me draw a rough outline of the overall image we can obtain from reading the three dissertations through the prism of polemical theology. Catholicism, regarded as the only true religion, is implicitly considered to be one of the forces of progress. In contrast, false dogma is placed in the realm of that which is fabulous and superstitious and must be done away with. It is an obstacle and a hindrance to progress. By including matters of religion in his discourse about the achievements of the ancients and the moderns, Szent-Ivany clearly demonstrated his conviction that truth is only one, regardless of whether it be the truth of reason or the truth of faith, and that the former cannot contradict the latter, nor can the one exist without the other. In this connection, let me quote the words of the English convert Frederick William Faber (1814–1863) who wrote: Theology is the counterpart of physical science. It can tell us quite as wonderful things of the angels whom we have never seen, as astronomy can of vitam, alios ad mortem æternam prædestinatos esse. Dillemma [sic!] igitur prædictum, sic explicandum est. Si prædestinatu sum, id est præordinatus ad vitam æternam, per certa media, quæ cum DEI gratia in mea potestate sunt, consequendam, certò consequar vitam æternam, si illa adhibuero. Rursum si sim reprobatus, id est, si à DEO ordinatus sum ad infernum, propter mea peccata, quæ liberè commissurus sum, certò damnabor, si illa peccata commisero.”

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the stars we can never reach. The science of the laws of grace is a parallel to the science of the laws of life.16

This, I think, is the perspective in which the three dissertations of Martinus Szent-Ivany should be read. Science and religion were not conceived of by him as antithetical forces; rather, both of them, science and religion alike, were understood as the moving forces of progress. But in order that they really might be so, they had to meet one condition: both were obliged to pursue truth. Surely, the polemical theological codes do not constitute the principal message of the three dissertations. Nevertheless, the codes are there and they certainly make up an important frame of reference in which the texts come to be seen in a rather interesting perspective. And I dare say this perspective is in no way marginal for the interpretation of texts written in the baroque period, which was a period of high religious sensitivity.

Appendix I. Pancirolli’s catalogue of things which existed in antiquity but were unknown to the moderns: 1. De Purpura. 2. De Encausto. 3. De Obsidianis. 4. De Lino vivo, aut Asbestino. 5. De Bysso. 6. De Specularibus. 7. De Murrhini & aliquibus Gemmis. 8. De Aurichalco. 9. De Cinamomo. 10. De Folio Barbarico, & alijs odoramentis. 11. De Amomo, Costo, Malobathro, Casia odorata, Aromate Indico & Lasere. 12. De Myrrha, Stacte, Bdellio, & Balsamo. 13. De Azzalo Indico. 14. De Ammoniaco Sale, & Stellione. 15. De Marmoribus. 16. De lapidibus preciosis. 17. De fructibus. 18. De Aedificijs, Amphitheatris & Theatris. 19. De Circo Maximo, Basilicis, Tabernis & Nympheis. 20. De Foro. 21. De viis. 22. De Librariis, sive Bibliothecis. 23. De Aedificiis privatis. 24. De Statuis ex multis particulis seu crustis compositis. 25. De cellis. 26. De Palaestris, & stadiis. 27. De Thermis aut Balneis. 28. De Arcubus Triumphalibus. 29. De Columna Traiani, & Antonii Pii. 30. De Mole Hadriani, & Sepultura Cesti. 31. De Obeliscis. 32. De Pyramidibus, Labyrinthis, Sphynge Aegyptia, Thebis, septem Mundi Miraculis, Naumachia, Statuis & Asylo. 33. De Pyropo, & Electro. 34. De Corynthio aere. 35. De oleo incombustibili. 36. De vitro ductili. 37. De Papyro. 38. De Navib. & Quadr. & Quinq. 39. De Musica. 40. De Music muta, & Hydraulica. 41. De Actione. 42. De Characteribus literarum. 43. De Habitibus & vestimentis Veterum. 44. De fibula. 45. De habitu Imperatorum. 46. Quomodo salutati fuerint Imperatores. 47. De Diademate. 48. De Equis. 49. De Testudine. 50. De Supellectile argentea. 51. De Cibi capiendi modo Veteribus usitato. 52. De iis, qui oleum, vinum & alia liquamina ad Mensuram vendebant. 53. De Moribus bello usurpatis. 54. De Moribus exercitus. 55. De Coronis, 16 Frederick W. Faber, All for Jesus: Or, the Easy Ways of Divine Love, 4th ed. (London: Richardson and Son, 1854), 283-284.

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quae dabantur Militibus. 56. De Armamentariis, quae hodie Arsenali dicuntur. 57. De Triumphis. 58. De Legatis. 59. De Nuptiis. 60. De Veterum Ludis. 61. De Damnatis in Metallum. 62. De exequiis Mortuorum. 63. De Nomenclatoribus. 64. De Donis. 65. De Horis & Clepsydris. II. Pancirolli’s catalogue of newly invented things: 1. De Novo Orbe. 2. De Porcellanis. 3. De Lapide Bezoar. 4. De Rha-barbaro, & Cassia. 5. De Saccharo. 6. De Manna. 7. De Alchimia. 8. De Destillationibus. 9. De Campanis. 10. De Horologiis. 11. De Pyxide nautica. 12. De Typographia. 13. De Charta. 14. De Ziferis, seu furtivis literarum notis. 15. De conspiciliis. 16. De Sellis, Staphiis, & Equorum soleis. 17. De Quadratura Circuli, seu modo reducendi Quadrati ad circulum. 18. De Tormentis muralibus & Bombardis. 19. De Igni Graeco. 20. De Torneamentis, quae vulgo Giofre dicuntur. 21. De Quintana. 22. De Moletrinis. 23. De Aucupio, quod cum Accipitre, Niso, Falcone, & aliis avibus peragitur. 24. De Textis Sericis. 25. De Liquoribus, qui vulgo Botarge & Caviaro dicuntur. III. Szent-Ivany’s catalogue of newly invented things: §1. Novus Orbis. §2. Reliquarum partium Orbis Terrae major notitia. §3. Galli Indici. §4. Aves Paradisiacae. §5. Plantae Saluberrimae. §6. Ficus, & Nuces Indicae. §7. Cultri Lapidei. §8. Porcellanae. §9. Lapis Bezoar. §10. Usus Rhabarbari in Medicinis, & Cassiae Dissolutivae. §11. Sacchari Confectio. §12. Chymia Inventa. §13. Distillationes. §14. Quinta essentia Rerum. §15. Campanae. §16. Horologia. §17. Typographia. §18. Pyxis Nautica. §19. Charta. §20. Ziferae, sive Cyphrae, seu Furtivae ac occultae Literarum Notae. §21. Tubus Opticus. §22. Novorum Planetarum detectio. §23. Solis macularum, & Facularum deprehensio. §24. Montium, & Vallium, Specuum, ac Lacuum Lunae, detectio. §25. Specierum visibilium, in locum obscurum intromissio. §26. Specula ustoria, & vitra auctoria. §27. Vitra trigona, & Polygona. §28. Tubus Phonotechnicus. §29. Sellae, Stapedes, & Soleae Equorum. §30. Quadrata Circuli. §31. Tormenta Muralia, & Bombardae. §32. Pulvis Pyrius. §33. Pulvis Pyrius mutus. §34. Pyrotechnica nova. §35. Ignis Graecus. §36. Sclopetum Pneumaticum. §37. Molentina. §38. Aucupium, quod cum Accipitre, Niso, Falcone, & alijs Avibus rapacibus peragitur. §39. Sericum Textum. §40. Theologia Scholastica. §41. Juris-prudentia. §42. Media Scientia. §43. Nova Architectura Militaris. §44. Novum Calendarium, vulgò Gregorianum. §45. Logarithmi. §46. Exercitia Spiritualia. §47. Apertio Fidei Catholicae in Chinas. §48. Musicae perfectio. §49. Nonnula id genus alia. §50. Abusus Tabaci, & Baroccarum. IV. Szent-Ivany’s catalogue of perished things: §1. Paradisus Terrestris. §2. Arbor Vitae. §3. Arbor scientiae Boni & mali. §4. Gygantes. §5. Purpura. §6. Encaustum. §7. Lapis Obsidianus. §8. Asbestum seu Linum vivum. §9. Byssus. §10. Lapis specularis. §11. Murrchina Vasa. §12. Genuinum Orichalcum, vulgò Aurichalcum. §13. Verum Cinnamomum. §14. Odoramenta pretiosa. §15. Myrrha & Stachen. §16. Bdelium. §17. Balsamum verum, Opobalsamum, & Xilobalsamum. §18. Publica Theatra, & Amphitheatra. §19. Cir-

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ci Maximi. §20. Certa Marmorum Genera. §21. Torneamenta. §22. Viae Publicae. §23. Palaestrae & Stadia. §24. Obelisci. §25. Pyramides. §26. Colossi. §27. Labyrinthi. §28. Pyropus. §29. Electrum. §30. Aes Corinthium. §31. Lucernae perpetuo ardentes. §32. Vitrum ductile. §33. Septem Orbis Miracula. §34. Coronae Militares. §35. Triumphi. §36. Olympiades. §37. Arcus Triumphales. §38. Damnatio ad Metalla. §39. Damnatio ad Bestias. §40. Crucis Supplicium. §40. (41.) Poenae in indevotos. §41. (42.) Poenae in Blasphemos. §42. (43.) Jejuniorum Rigor. §43. (44.) Sacramentalium Poenitentiarum Rigor. §44. (45.) Specula Caustica, Procli & Archimedis. §45. (46.) Cibi capiendi Modus. §46. (47.) Proba per Ignem, & Duella. §47. (48.) Proba per aquam ferventem. §48. (49.) Romani Imperij Amplitudo. §49. (50.) Copiae Militares Romani Imperij. §50. (51.) Antiquus Urbis Romanae Decor. V. Szent-Ivany’s catalogue of things of false or dubious existence: §1. Primum mobile. §2. Motus Contrarij Astrorum. §3. Sphaera Ignis. §4. Motus Terrae Copernicanus. §5. Motus Trepidationis Terrae. §6. Inhabitabiles Zonae Terrae. §7. Phoenix. §8. Avium Britannicarum, vulgo Berniclarum, ex arboribus aut lignis putridis generatio. §9. Gryphes. §10. Pelicanus. §11. Aves Diomedeae. §12. Remora. §13. Equae Hispanicae & Cappadociae vento concipientes. §14. Salamandra in igne vivens. §15. Unicornis seu Monoceros. §16. Cornu Monocerotis seu Unicornis. §17. Excessivi Gygantes Gygantum. §18. Pigmaei. §19. Centauri, Hippo-centauri, Ono-centauri. §20. Tritones & Sirenes. §21. Fauni & Satyri. §22. Homines Sylvestres. §23. Homines Acephali, & Arimaspi. §24. Homines Cynocephali. §25. Prodigiosae deformitatis Homines. §26. Fortuna. §27. Fatum Gentilium. §28. Fatum Genethliacum. §29. Fatum Acatholicum. §30. Lycantropia. §31. Aliae Similes Metamorphoses. §32. Lapis Philosophicus. §33. Ungventum Armarium, naturaliter absentes, & longè distantes sanans. §34. Pseudo-criptologia & Criptographia nonnullorum. §35. Annuli Jaspide vel Turcesio instructi, intra vitrum filo suspensi, horarum diei vel noctis indicatio. §36. Per solum visum, & solam vocem fascinatio. §37. Sanitatum per solum hominis alicujus contactum & afflatum restitutio.

PART I: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY AND HISTORY

CHAPTER ONE JOHANNES MAGNUS’S HISTORIA DE OMNIBUS GOTHORUM SVEONUMQUE REGIBUS (1554) AS A RELIGIOUS POLEMICAL TREATISE HANS HELANDER

1. Introduction The subject of this essay is Johannes Magnus, the last Catholic archbishop of Sweden, who was exiled in the 1530s and died in Rome in 1544, and his magnum opus, Historia de omnibus Gothorum Sveonumque regibus, which was posthumously published in Rome in 1554 (and ran to some 787 pages).1 In this remarkable work, the author provides a complete list of Swedish kings from Magog, the grandson of Noah, to his own days. In addition, the work contains the history of the Goths extra patriam—namely, the Scythians, the Getae, the Dacians (all of whom were allegedly of Gothic descent), the Ostrogoths, and the Visigoths. I shall argue that Johannes Magnus’s Historia, besides being a historiographical work, is also to be regarded as a mirror for princes and, just as importantly, a religious polemical work.

2. Early Modern Nationalistic Historiography Initially, however, we had better look at some common tendencies in early modern nationalistic historiography. Unless we do so, Johannes Magnus’s history, with its list of rulers from the grandson of Noah to the princes who ruled at the turn of the century (1500), will seem odd and fantastic, whereas in many ways the work actually represents the mainstream historiographical tendencies of the period in which it was written. 1

Johannes Magnus, Historia de omnibus Gothorum Sveonumque regibus (Romae/ Rome, 1554).

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Early modern Europe was a heroic period in the development of the national state and the hey-day of nationalistic historiography. Speculations about the origin of various nations were nourished primarily by two myths; firstly the wanderings of Noah’s descendants after the flood, secondly the legends of Troy and the fate of the heroes of that war. These myths had medieval origins, but now, at the beginning of the early modern period, they were taken up with enthusiasm by learned men who composed historiographical works in the service of their princes and their nations. The wanderings of the Noachids and the legends connected to Troy were the great archetypal stories, to which early modern historians always tried to connect annals of their own peoples. A very important source of inspiration for many scholars was the Antiquitates of Annius of Viterbo (1432–1502), which was printed in 1498. Annius had forged and invented texts by various historiographers (e.g., the Babylonian Berossus and the Egyptian Manetho), thus creating a strange web of biblical and ancient history.2 In England historians maintained that the English kingdom had been founded by Brutus the Trojan, who was reported to be the great-grandson of Aeneas. This myth was well known already in the Middle Ages, for instance through the influential Historia Britonum by Geoffrey of Monmouth (from the twelfth century). The story went that Brutus had founded New Troy (which was later called London). The confabulations of Annius of Viterbo also provided English historians with additional material. In France, there flourished a myth about Francus, allegedly the son of Hector, who according to this tale fled from Troy and became the ancestor of the Frankish nation. This story can be traced back as far as the seventh-century chronicle of Fredegar. In the sixteenth century such material was used by several poets, among them George Buchanan, who addressed Francis II as decus Hectoridum iuvenis, and Pierre de Ronsard, who used this myth in his epic La Franciade (of 1572). According to another French tradition, the French were descended directly from Japheth, via Gomer. In this way, the history of the French could be claimed to have begun immediately after the flood.3 German historians maintained that the Germans descended from Noah’s son Japheth. His son Gomer was the father of Ascenas, also called Tuiscon, who became the first German king. There are many more

2 See Marianne Wifstrand Schiebe, Annius von Viterbo und die schwedische Historiographie des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts. Skrifter utgivna av Kungl. Humanistiska Vetenskaps-Samfundet i Uppsala. 48 (Uppsala, 1992). 3 Donald R. Kelley, Faces of History: Historical Inquiry from Herodotus to Herder (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998), 141ff.

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such examples which sprang from the myths that were nurtured by other European nations and cities.4 In Sweden there were even in the Middle Ages ideas which corresponded to, vied with, and refuted claims of this kind. The main source of inspiration for Swedish historiographers was Jordanes’s Gothic history, which contains a description of the island Scandza in northern Europe, from which victorious nations have repeatedly sallied forth, as from an officina gentium and a vagina nationum. Scandza was identified as Scandinavia, and Sweden could then be considered as the original home of the Goths. At the Council of Basel, the Swedish bishop Nicolaus Ragvaldi had given a speech in which he explained to his audience that the ruler of Sweden, as a descendant of the old Goths, ought to be regarded as one of the most eminent princes of Europe. (This was in November 1434.) The old Goths had conquered large parts of Asia and Europe, according to the Swedish bishop, who was convinced that not only the Ostrogoths and the Visigoths, but also the old Scythians, the Getae and the old Dacians were all Goths. This generous definition created a wonderful basis for elaborate amplifications of the glorious Gothic history: Under the name of Scythians, the Goths had been victorious in wars with the Persian kings Cyrus, Darius, and Xerxes. As Getae and Dacians they had successfully defended themselves against the Romans on the Danube, and then, under their preferable name, the Goths, they invaded the Roman Empire and established their rule in Italy and in Spain. It is on the basis of this speech of Nicolaus Ragvaldi that Johannes Magnus erected his magnificent edifice.5

3. Johannes Magnus’s Life Before we look at the main ideas of Johannes Magnus’s Gothic history, it is necessary to consider his life in brief. Johannes Magnus was born in 1488. Under the protection of the influential bishop of Linköping he was given the opportunity to study at a number of universities abroad, in Rostock, Louvain, Cologne, and Perugia. In 1517 he served his country as a 4

An instructive survey will be found in Anthony Grafton, Joseph Scaliger: A Study in the History of Classical Scholarship. II. Historical Chronology (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993), especially 78ff. and 85ff. 5 Surveys of the Swedish and Norse sources of Johannes Magnus’s historiographical work will be found in Gustav Löw, Sveriges forntid i svensk historiografi (Uppsala: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1908), Johan Nordström, Johannes Magnus och den götiska romantiken (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1975) and Kurt Johannesson, Gotisk renässans: Johannes och Olaus Magnus som politiker och historiker (Uppsala: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1982 [with a summary in English, 290ff.]).

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foreign secretary and envoy to the Holy See, in Rome, where he remained for six years. He was subsequently, in 1523, sent by the pope as a legate to his country in order to report on the spread of Protestant teaching in Sweden. This coincided with the election of Gustavus Vasa as king of Sweden. Johannes accepted the king’s offer to serve as archbishop with Uppsala as his residence.6 In 1526 he was sent by the king on an important mission to Poland. His younger brother Olaus Magnus (1490–1557), also in the king’s service, joined him in Danzig. During these years Protestantism was gradually introduced in Sweden by the king and his councillors. At the 1527 diet (the Riksdag, the meeting of the Parliament), Gustavus Vasa carried through his plans for the strengthening of the royal power and radical economic reforms: the bishops were required to cede their castles and their fortunes to the state (more specifically to the king). Henceforth, the word of the Lord was to be preached “with purity and clearness” (as it was phrased) in Swedish churches. Such measures clearly demonstrated that the process of reformation was under way. The movement was led by Olaus Petri (1493– 1552) and his brother Laurentius Petri (1499–1573), who in 1531 became the first Protestant archbishop. These were the leading Swedish reformers, together with Laurentius Andreae (ca. 1470–1552), a diligent Bible translator, who was also councillor to the king. In the course of the 1530s, the rupture with Rome was gradually achieved. In such an atmosphere, the tension grew between Gustavus Vasa and two brothers Johannes and Olaus, both of whom adhered to the Catholic faith with zeal and ardor. They found that they were, in reality, in exile. Johannes remained in Danzig and then went to Italy, where he volunteered in the service of his church, deeply concerned about the state in his own country and firmly resolved to devote himself to the struggle against Protestantism. In Italy he visited Mantua, Vicenza, and Venice. In Venice he worked intensely in order to finish his monumental work on the history of all the Gothic and Swedish kings, which occupied him for twenty years. He spent his final years, from 1541 to 1544, in Rome.7 After his death, his brother Olaus was appointed his successor as archbishop by the pope, an appointment which was naturally not accepted in Sweden, where a Protestant archbishop, as we have seen, had been in of-

6

The Holy See first refused to confirm his appointment, since Archbishop Gustavus Trolle, who had been exiled, was still alive (he died in 1535); Johannes Magnus was officially installed by the Pope in 1533. 7 For further information on Johannes’s life, see Nordström, Johannes Magnus, and Johannesson, Gotisk renässans (both mentioned above in note 5).

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fice since 1531.8 Olaus Magnus saw to it that his brother’s enormous historiographical work was printed in Rome, ten years after his death, in 1554. The year after, Olaus published, again in Rome, his own magnum opus, Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus, which is a description of Sweden, with information about its nature, resources, animals, its people, their life and habits. The works of the two brothers attracted much interest in Europe. Johannes Magnus’s Gothic history was reprinted several times, in Basel in 1552 and 1567, and in Wittenberg in 1617.9 A Swedish translation appeared in 1620.10

4. Historia de omnibus Gothorum Sveonumque regibus: Some Details about the Work’s Content In the original printed version the Historia comprises 787 pages, divided into twenty-four books, which present, roughly in chronological order, the history of the Goths in Sweden, in their own native home, in addition to the history of the Gothic rulers abroad, with scenes that alternate between Northern history and the events extra patriam. The books about the kings in Sweden total thirteen and a half in number, and the books which cover the Gothic deeds abroad are ten and a half. Johannes Magnus’s chronology is very precise. Most of his contemporaries in western Europe considered that the world was created approximately 4,000 years before Christ. Johannes Magnus was convinced that the first year of the world—namely, year one anno mundi—came 3,960 years before Christ (or possibly ten years earlier). In his opinion the flood occurred 1,656 years after the creation. He also asserted that about eighty years after the flood Magog, son of Japheth and grandson of Noah, arrived in Sweden and became the first Gothic king and king of Sweden. According to his chronology the first exodus of the Goths from Scandinavia under their king Berig took place anno Mundi 2,492. This extremely important event occurred not long after the death of Moses, during the time of the Israeli Judges. 8

Laurentius Petri Nericius (1499–1573), ordained in 1531. All these appeared under the title Gothorum Sveonumque historia. 10 A translation of the whole work into Swedish appeared in 1620, Swea och Götha Chrönica (Stockholm), whose author was Ericus Schroderus (ca. 1570–1647), royal translator. A poetic version was produced at the end of the sixteenth century by Elaus Terserus (1554–1617), but this was never printed. Petrus Petrejus (ca. 1570–1622) published a summary in Swedish, Een kort och nyttigh chronica (Stockholm, 1611). 9

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Chapter One

After the exodus of Berig, the Goths came to the regions north of the Black Sea and the Crimea. There they lived under the name of Scythians and waged war repeatedly with the Persian kings. Johannes Magnus’s description of these events is based on Jordanes, and for the period of the war with the Persians partly on Herodotus and Greek historians, not immediately of course, but on the Latin histories of Justinus and Orosius. He also used and copied many passages from a work by the German historian Albert Krantz (ca. 1445–1517), entitled Chronica regnorum Aquilonarium, Daniae, Svetiae, Norvagiae (which he had access to in manuscript form).11 He based himself upon the available ancient authors for the later history of the Goths during classical antiquity right up to the end of the great migrations. These authors included Justinus and Orosius, Jordanes (whom he used all the time), the Historia Augusta, and the Latin translation of Procopius. In addition, he relied upon the historical works of a number of fifteenth-century Italian historians, who had also written about the same periods that he was treating, historians such as Leonardo Bruni (1374–1444),12 Flavio Biondo (1388–1463),13 and Marco Antonio Sabellico (1436–1506).14 Long passages of his text are copied, word for word, from these authors. Johannes Magnus is a completely shameless and unabashed plagiarist, like many of his contemporaries. However, Johannes’s book is not to be regarded as an entirely historiographical work. It also functioned as a mirror for princes, a Fürstenspiegel, in which we find edifying pictures of good rulers at the side of, and contrasted with, frightening descriptions of bad and vicious rulers. Historia magistra vitae! It is noteworthy that it was also a work that demonstrated and justified the ways of God to man: throughout his extensive historiographical pageant, one encounters vivid situations that clearly demonstrate the ways in which adherence to the true Christian church will bring salvation to a ruler and prosperity to his nation, and conversely, how apostasy and heresy will be punished with disaster, calamity, and eternal damnation of both the ruler and all his people. In fact, herein lies the important message of the work, inspired by the situation in Johannes’s own country, which under the rule of Gustavus Vasa had become Protestant and thereby abandoned the path of salvation. The message is often delivered via historical exempla that stood as clear and transparent parallels 11

This was posthumously printed, first in Argen[torati]/Strasbourg in 1546, then repeatedly re-edited (in 1546, 1560, and 1583). 12 De bello Italico adversus Gothos gesto (Fulginii/Foligno, 1470). 13 Historiae ab inclinatione Romanorum imperii (Basileae/Basel, 1474). 14 Enneades sive Rhapsodia Historiarum (Venetiae/Venice, 1498; Parhisiis/Paris, 1509).

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to the contemporary development in Sweden, typological events that functioned either as warnings, which were meant to have a deterrent effect, or as encouraging tales about the blessings that will accompany submission under the Catholic Church.

5. The Historia de omnibus Gothorum Sveonumque regibus as a Vindication of the Catholic Church Two examples can effectively illustrate the tenor of Johannes’s teaching. The first one comprises Johannes Magnus’s description of the conversion of the Goths through the bishop Ulfilas. As will be remembered, Ulfilas in the fourth century brought about the conversion of the Goths on the Danube. He created an alphabet for the Gothic nation and translated parts of the New Testament into the Gothic language. He was himself a follower of Arius, and he preached Christianity in the Arian form. Johannes Magnus discussed the activities of Ulfilas at the beginning of book fifteen in his magnum opus.15 I translate, or in some passages I rather paraphrase, the Latin text: This dangerous poison [namely, Arianism] secretly spread among the Gothic people. For the Visigoths did not become Christians, but Arians instead, and then they corrupted their kinsmen, the Ostrogoths and the Gepids, through the ferment that they had imbibed. And this was achieved by Ulfilas, their bishop. They thought that he was a real apostle of Christ, but he was in fact, under his sheep’s clothing, an enemy of the true faith and an indisputable Antichrist. In order to strengthen his enormous impiety, he translated the treasury of the Holy Bible into the Gothic language, and into this translation he mixed his dangerous poison. In our own time, Laurentius Andreae, archdeacon of Strängnäs in Sweden, has displayed the same abominable impiety. He has distorted the Holy Gospel in a great number of passages and forced this distorted text upon the sincere and confiding Gothic nation, and moreover, with reference to royal authority, threatened with grave punishment anyone who should try to call his enormous fabrications into question. . . . At an age of seventy years he became the disciple of the deacon Olaus Petri Nericius, a certain impudent youth, who had brought a horrible heresy from the gymnasium in Wittenberg to his own country, Sweden, which he instead ought to have preserved in the true Christian faith. These two men, Laurentius Andreae and Olaus Petri, in their godlessness led King Gustavus astray, away from the mode of life and manners of Christian rulers. They destroyed the pure and honest way of life in their country, a style of life that was in accordance with the 15

15,1, pp. 477ff.

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Chapter One true religion, and they utterly overturned and ruined all the authority and independence of the Christian and Catholic Church. However, the king thanked them for all this by treating them as his most despicable slaves. Serpsitque hoc perniciosum dogma in omnem Gothicam nationem. Enimvero Vesegothi non tam Christiani, quam Arriani effecti, Ostrogothos et Gepidas congentiles suos fermento, quod exuxerant, corruperunt, idque per Ulphilam suae gentis Episcopum; quem etsi credebant esse verum Christi Apostolum, erat tamen sub pelle ovina verae fidei hostis et indubitatus antichristus. Hic ut suam insignem impietatem efficacius stabiliret, primum omnium divinarum literarum sacratissimum thesaurum in Gothicam linguam transfudit, immixto quod imbiberat pernicioso veneno. Cuius execrandam impietatem nostro aevo quidam Laurentius Andreae Strengenensis Archidiaconus imitatus, sanctissimum Christi evangelium passim et in plurimis locis corrupit, corruptumque simplici Gothorum plebi legendum obtrusit, additis etiam ex Regis autoritate gravibus minis, ne quis tam enormibus eius erroribus reniteretur. . . . post septuagesimum annum suae aetatis factus erat discipulus cuiusdam improbissimi adolescentis Olaui Petri Nericiani diaconi, qui ex Vittembergensi gymnasio nefandam haereticorum impietatem in patriam, quam in vera Christi religione conservare debuisset, reportavit. Hi duo a Rege Gustavo, postquam ipsum ab honestis Christianorum Regum institutis impie seduxissent, et integerrimos patriae syncera religione fundatae mores, totamque Christianae et catholicae ecclesiae autoritatem, ac libertatem funditus evertissent, hanc gratiam receperunt, ut eos perinde ac vilissima mancipia toto tempore, quo regnabat, tractaverit.

My second example, or rather a short series of examples,16 is taken from book sixteen in Johannes Magnus’s history. This part deals with the fate of the Visigoths in Spain from the beginning of the fifth century right up to the Muslim invasion and the fall of the Visigothic Kingdom at the beginning of the eighth century. The Visigoths were Arian Christians, but at the Council of Toledo in 589 it was formally declared that the official religion was to be the Catholic faith. The king of the Visigoths, Recaredus (Richard), had now made the transition, a decision that was to be of great importance for Western Europe as a whole. Johannes Magnus writes (16,10, p. 517): There the Spanish bishop Leander, of Catholic faith, a man most familiar with the law of God and learned in Holy Scripture, argued with great enthusiasm for the true church and refuted the heresy of Arianism so effectively that King Richard with all his noblemen and all his people

16

16,10 (p. 517); 16,14 (p. 520); 16,25 (pp. 530-531).

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abjured their old erroneous belief, which they had inherited from their fathers, and joined, in cult and dogma, the other faithful believers in the Catholic world. Ibi Leander Hispalensis Pontifex vir fide Catholicus, et in lege Dei exercitatissimus, atque in sacris scripturis doctissimus, acerrime disputans, adeo confutavit sectam Arrianam, ut Recaredus ipse cum proceribus et omni gente sua renuntiaret paterno et gentili errori, seque caeteris per Catholicam ecclesiam fidelibus religione et fide conformaret.

For Johannes Magnus, Recaredus stood as a typus of the true Christian ruler. Johannes contended that the king, through his own conversion and that of his nation, had made the Gothic name even more glorious than it had been before, indeed more glorious than it had become through all its martial deeds. He exuberantly described the zeal of the king: The remaining Arians were all expelled and the Catholic clergymen who had earlier been in exile were now reinstated in their offices. In the eyes of Johannes Magnus, several other Visigothic rulers also became exemplary Christian rulers. Among them, Sisebutus (612–621) was apparently the foremost. Johannes wrote that Sisebutus’s main concern was not his own power, but always the glory of the church, a fact that made him, at least as far as Johannes was concerned, the opposite of Gustavus Vasa.17 With great zeal Sisebutus expelled all heretics. The Jews had to leave the country or convert to Christianity. According to Johannes, about ninety thousand Jews were baptized. Johannes Magnus becomes enthusiastic when he describes the expulsion, during the reign of the Visigoths, of heretics of various kinds. It was inevitable that Johannes and his contemporaries would draw parallels between the policy of the Visigothic kings and the rigid and ruthless measures taken by the Spanish rulers of their own period. Johannes, for example, was reminded of the expulsion of the Moors and the Jews in 1492 during the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella. It is also evident that he hoped that their successors would be righteous and zealous rulers who would save the Catholic faith in the great religious crisis that had shaken all Europe, princes who would be the exact opposite of Gustavus Vasa who had, in the eyes of Johannes Magnus, led his country to eternal damnation. Johannes Magnus did not live to see the opening of the Council of Trent in 1545, which inaugurated the Counter-Reformation, but he had, during the last years of his life, eagerly hoped for efforts in that direction.

17

16,14 (p. 517).

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In conclusion: It is clear that Johannes Magnus’s Historia is not only a historiographical work, composed in order to promote the greater glory of his Gothic nation. It is also a mirror for princes and—more specifically—a religious polemical work, which is directed against all kinds of heresies and above all against Protestantism. It serves as a vindication of the supremacy of the Catholic Church, which is effectively supported by a number of edifying examples of virtuous and true Christian rulers.

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Fig. 1-1 Johannes Magnus’s Historia de omnibus Gothorum Sveonumque regibus (1554), beginning of chapter one. Photo courtesy of the Uppsala University Library, Uppsala.

CHAPTER TWO HISTORY AS POLEMICAL THEOLOGY IN ELIZABETHAN ENGLAND: THOMAS BECON’S RELIKES OF ROME JONATHAN REIMER

Thomas Becon’s (1512–1567) The Relikes of Rome survives in two distinct versions: a first edition printed sometime in 1560 and a second recension “diligently corrected and greatly augmented” which appeared on 30 September 1563.1 This second, expanded edition was subsequently reprinted in the third volume of The Worckes of Thomas Becon, completed less than two months later, but not released until January 1564.2 Modelled after Rob1

Thomas Becon, The Relikes of Rome, concernynge Church ware and matters of religion, faithfully gathered out of the most faythfull wryters, of histories and Chronicles (London: John Day, 1560: RSTC 1745); The Reliques of Rome, contayning, all such matters of Religion, as haue in times past bene brought into the Church by the Pope and his adherentes: faithfully gathered out of the most faithful writers of Chronicles and Histories, and now newly both diligently corrected and greatly augmented, to the singular profit of the Readers (London: John Day, 1563: RSTC 1755). The exact date of publication for this second edition is mentioned both at the end of Becon’s epistolary preface (sig. Biiiir) and beneath Day’s colophon (sig. Nnviiiv). 2 Thomas Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon, whiche he hath hitherto made and published, with diuerse other newe Bookes added to the same, heretofore neuer set forth in print, diuided into thre tomes or parts diligently perused, corrected, and amended: and now finished in this present of our Lord 1564 (London: John Day, 1564: RSTC 1710). The third and final volume of Becon’s works appears to have been nearing completion throughout the winter of 1563/64. While the final page of text of this volume bears the date of 5 November (sig. XXXXxxvr) and Day’s colophon is dated 25 November (sig. XXXXxxvv), Becon’s preface was not completed until 17 January (sig. Cviiv). Though the almost two month delay between the completion of the printing of this work and its pub-

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ert Barnes’s (1495–1540) Vitae Romanorum Pontificum and Polydore Vergil’s (1470–1555) De Inventoribus Rerum, this text was a tendentious catalogue of the origins and development of traditional beliefs and ceremonies, composed to undermine the false claims of Catholic apologists to the historical continuity of their practices: Yea, when they be upon theyr ale benches, or in corners, they whisper into the people [sic] eares, that al that they haue used in theyr Churche, hathe bene instituted by Christe, and hys Apostles, or at leaste by the aunciente fathers of the primuatiue Church, that was nexte after Christe.3

As such, it was a forceful effort by one of England’s leading devotional writers to undercut the seemingly immemorial and therefore sacrosanct character of English Catholic worship.4 Despite the fact that The Relikes of Rome was composed by a bestselling Tudor author, printed three times in four years by John Day, the leading English printer of the later sixteenth century, dedicated to Sir Francis Russell, the second earl of Bedford (1526/27–1585), and to John Parkhurst, bishop of Norfolk (1511–1575), both key figures in the enforcement of the Elizabethan Settlement, this work has garnered little scholarly attention. The principal reason for this neglect is the exclusion of lication may simply have been due to the time it took Becon to compose his preface, it may have also been caused by the requirement that this work be perused “accordyng to thorder appointed in the Quenes maiesties iniunctions,” a stipulation referenced on the work’s title-page. 3 Becon, Relikes of Rome, sigs. Aiiiir-Aiiiiv. 4 For a magisterial account of the embedded and traditional worldview that Becon was seeking to displace, see Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England, c.1400–c.1580 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005). Though religious labels are often notoriously difficult to nail down in early modern England, Becon provides modern readers with several clear indications of his own understanding of these designations. For example, in the prefaces to both the first and second editions of this work, he uses the term “Catholike” to refer to the traditional religion of England. Thus, he refers to the “holy father of Rome, and his Catholike religion”, to Latin Mass as “theyr catholike procedynges” and to the persistence of traditional practices as “the olde and auncient Catholyke Religion” (Relikes of Rome, sig. Aiiiir; Reliques of Rome, sigs. *viv, Aiiiv). In a similar fashion, he uses the term “Protestante” as an antonym for “Papyste” and “Catholike”; though curiously, even as he rigorously defends Protestant claims against the complaints of their theological adversaries, Becon never self-identifies as a Protestant (Reliques of Rome, sigs. *viiir, Aviiiv). In certain instances, the label “Protestante” is pejorative and, along with Becon’s more common deprecatory label “Gospeller,” denotes someone who is evangelical in name only.

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this text from the nineteenth-century edition of Becon’s works compiled by the Parker Society.5 It is given less than a sentence in D. S. Bailey’s 1952 study, Thomas Becon and the Reformation of the Church in England.6 When modern scholars turn very occasionally to this work, it is only as a mine for quotations or perspectives rather than as a historical source worthy of consideration in its own right.7 The singular scholarly treatment of this text comprises five paragraphs in a 1964 article by Rainer Pineas.8 It is thus the aim of this essay to provide the first critical analysis of this work’s context, content, and early reception. This will be done in two stages: first, this essay will situate the writing of this work within Becon’s life and career; second, it will analyse the content and polemical aims of the two distinct editions of this text.

1. Thomas Becon: Clergyman, Preacher, and Bestselling Author During the period in which he composed The Relikes of Rome, Becon was an important clergyman, a highly popular preacher and a bestselling devotional writer. As Brett Usher has demonstrated, Sir William Cecil, the Secretary of State (1520/21–1598), marked him out for episcopal preferment in 1559.9 Though in the end not elevated to a bishopric, Becon was nonetheless the recipient of several major benefices, including, but not 5

John Ayre, The Early Works of Thomas Becon (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1843); The Catechism of Thomas Becon (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1844); The Prayers and Other Pieces of Thomas Becon (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1844). 6 D. S. Bailey, Thomas Becon and the Reformation of the Church in England (Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1952), 97. 7 Erin Minear, Reverberating Song in Shakespeare and Milton (Farnham: Ashgate, 2011), 168; Jonathan P. Willis, Church Music and Protestantism in PostReformation England: Discourses, Sites and Identities (Farnham: Ashgate, 2010), 59, n. 108; Christopher Marsh, Music and Society in Early Modern England (Cambridge Cambridge University Press, 2010), 393, n. 5; Joseph Sterrett, The Unheard Prayer: Religious Toleration in Shakespeare’s Drama (Leiden: Brill, 2012), xxii; Gregory Dodds, Exploiting Erasmus: The Erasmian Legacy and Religious Change in Early Modern England (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009), 297, n. 127. This is even the case in articles about the works of Thomas Becon: Christian Jérémie, “Reformation: Redress, Resurrection and Resurgence in Thomas Becon’s Writings,” Reformation and Renaissance Review 13, no. 3 (2011): 339-351. 8 Pineas, “Thomas Becon as a Religious Controversialist,” 216-218. 9 Brett Usher, William Cecil and Episcopacy, 1559-1577 (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2003), 27-29, 33, 36, 45, 49.

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limited to, the fourth stall at Canterbury Cathedral in 1559, the magnificent city parish of Christ Church Newgate, presented to him by the Mayor and Common Council of London in 1561, and the rectory of St Dionis Backchurch, bestowed on him by the Dean and Chapter of Canterbury Cathedral.10 During this period, Becon can be seen in the chronicle of the London provisioner, Henry Machyn (1496/98–1563), preaching before the capital’s elite. Seven times from the fall of 1561 to the spring of 1563, Becon is mentioned as the preacher at funerals for godly members of high society. Likewise, he preached at the luxurious wedding of Edmund Cook to the daughter of John Nichols, at which were present “the lord mayor and all the alderman [sic] and . . . many worshipful men and women.”11 Such sermons made quite an impression on their audience: a letter from Archbishop Matthew Parker (1504–1575) to Sir William Cecil, dated 3 April 1566, contains a request from the Mayor of London that Becon, already slated to preach the Palm Sunday sermon at Paul’s Cross, be prevailed upon to preach a sermon on the Wednesday of Holy Week as well.12 Despite his prestige as clergyman and as a preacher, Becon was undoubtedly best known to many of his contemporaries as a bestselling devotional writer. Having caused a sensation with a series of pseudonymous devotional works printed during the final decade of the reign of Henry VIII (1491–1547), he was at the forefront of the evangelical ascendancy under the reign of Edward VI (1537–1553), serving as a chaplain to both the Lord Protector Edward Seymour (1500–1552) and to Archbishop Thomas Cranmer (1489–1556).13 During this period, Becon contributed to official publications such as Cranmer’s Book of Homilies and the Book of 10

John Le Neve, Fasti Ecclesiae Anglicanae, ed. T. Duffus Hardy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1854), 50; George Leyden Hennessey, Novum Repertorium Ecclesiasicum Parochiale Londinense (London: Sonnenschein, 1898), 125, 101. 11 Richard Bailey, Marilyn Miller and Collete More, eds., A London Provisioner’s Chronicle, 1550-1563, by Henry Machyn: Manuscript, Transcription and Modernization, last modified on 29 November 2014, quod.lib.umich.edu/m/machyn. Becon is mentioned in the following entries: 21 October 1559, 16 April 1560, 23 July 1560, 23 December 1560, 14 April 1561, 20 July 1562, [unknown] February 1562, and 3 June 1563. 12 John Bruce and Thomas Perowne, eds., Correspondence of Matthew Parker (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1853), 275. 13 Alec Ryrie, The Gospel and Henry VIII: Evangelicals in the Early English Reformation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 115; M. L. Bush, The Government Policy of Protector Somerset (London: Edward Arnold, 1975), 104111; Diarmaid MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer: A Life (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996), 416-417.

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Common Prayer and the Primer of 1553, as well as dedicating works to the Lady Elizabeth (1533–1603), Anne Stanhope, the duchess of Somerset (1500–1587), Anne of Cleves (1515–1557), and Archbishop Thomas Cranmer.14 Though the reign of Mary I (1516–1558) resulted in the prohibition and destruction of his works, the accession of her half-sister Elizabeth in November of 1558 rapidly returned Becon’s writing to prominence.15 To name just one example: his dialogue The Sick Man’s Salve, first published in 1558, was reprinted at least twenty-five times.16

2. The Relikes of Rome (1560) The first edition of The Relikes of Rome was dedicated to Sir Francis Russell, the second earl of Bedford.17 As a key member of Elizabeth’s Privy Council and an exile during Mary’s reign, Bedford played an enthusiastic role in the orchestration and enforcement of the Elizabethan Settlement.18 As such, he became a focal point of literary patronage, garnering at least twenty-three dedications from authors seeking to either secure or retain his support.19 Though Becon’s address was one among many, it was the product of a previously established relationship between these two men. During Edward VI’s reign, he had dedicated his dialogue The Christian Knight to Bedford, presenting it as testimony of his “seruyseable hart and

14

MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer, 416-417; Bailey, Thomas Becon and the Reformation, 55-56; Becon, The iewel of ioye (London: John Day and William Seres, 1550: RSTC 1733); The flour of godly praiers (London: John Day, 1550: RSTC 1719.5); The pomander of prayer (London: John Day, 1558: RSTC 1744); A fruitful treatise of fasting (London: John Day, 1551: RSTC 1722). 15 Even during this period, there is some evidence that Becon’s writing was continuing to be read: see John N. King, “The Account Book of a Marian Bookseller, 1553-4,” British Library Journal 13 (1987): 53; Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars, 541-542. 16 Mary Hampson Patterson, Domesticating the Reformation: Protestant Best Sellers, Private Devotion and the Revolution of English Piety (Danvers: Rosemont Publishing, 2007), 101-153. 17 Becon, Relikes of Rome, sig. Aiir. 18 Wallace T. MacCaffrey, “Russell, Francis, second earl of Bedford (1526/27-1585), magnate,” in Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), vol. 48, 238-241; Christina Garrett, Marian Exiles: A Study in the Origins of Elizabethan Puritanism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1966), 275-277. 19 M. St Claire and Gladys Scott Thomson, “My Lord’s Books: The Library of Francis, Second Earl of Bedford, in 1584,” The Review of English Studies 7, no. 28 (1931): 390-391.

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redy bent good wil.”20 In a similar manner, Becon later addressed his polemical treatise The Monstruous Merchandise of the Romish Bishops (a sort of sequel to The Relikes of Rome, which catalogued the locations of relics and the indulgences attached to them) to the earl in appreciation of the “good wil and bounty that your Lordship hath showed toward me these certaine yeres past.”21 Thus, in this work Becon was addressing a powerful agent of religious enforcement, an individual of shared convictions and a personal patron. With such an audience in mind, Becon opens this work with an assessment of the current state of affairs in England, highlighting the survival of much traditional belief and practice. In making this appraisal, Becon begins on a cosmic scale, artfully blending the cadence of the opening lines of Thomas Cranmer’s 1549 preface to the Book of Common Prayer with the dominical rebuke of Mark 7:9: For, what commaundemente, was euer set forthe unto us by almighty God oure heauenlye father, and his sonne Jesus Christ our Lord, that the impes of Antichriste haue not by false gloses, and uiolence, troden down, that theyr beggerlye Ceremonies and traditions might stand, and be magnified?22

This is followed by a short inventory of such practices, including the veneration of images, the reception of communion under one kind, and the continued use of the Latin mass.23 Behind the survival of these “catholike procedynges,” Becon saw truculent clerical apologists, who when they be upon theyr ale benches, or in corners . . . whisper into the people [sic] eares, that al they haue used in theyr Churches, hath been

20 Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon, fols. cxliiiir-cxlvv. Though no Edwardian edition of this work is now extant, Becon later listed it as one of the “diuerse litle treatises” written during this reign (fol. Cvv). 21 Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon, fols. clxxxr. 22 Becon, Relikes of Rome, sig. Aiir; Brian Cummings, ed., The Book of Common Prayer: The Texts of 1549, 1559, and 1662 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 4: “There was never any thing by the wit of man so well devised or surely established, which (in the continuance of time) hath not been corrupted”; The bible in Englishe that is to saye, the contentes of al holy Scripture, both the olde and the newe Testament, according to the translation that is appointed to be read in churches (London: Richard Harrison, 1562: RSTC 2096), fol. xixv: “ye cast aside the commaundement of god to maintain your own constitutions”; cf. Reliques of Rome, sig. Bir. 23 Becon, Relikes of Rome, sigs. Aiiv-Aiiiir.

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instituted by Christe, his Apostles, or at leaste by the auciente fathers of the primitiue Church, that was nexte after Christe. Whereby it commeth to pass that many of the Quenes most louinge Subiectes are most pernitiouslye seduced and deceiued, and made the more unwillinge to receiue thys godlye reformation of the churche, that is nowe so luckelye begon in this florishinge Realme of England.24

So as to undermine these claims to continuity, Becon offers his own selection of historical sources “drawne out of authors, Hystoriographes, and chroniclers of all ages, sence al mooste the ascendynge up of oure Sauyoure Jesu Christe.”25 Becon informs his readers that this compendium reveals “howe, by whome, and at what tyme, euerye one of theyr beggerlye Ceremonyes dyd creape or rather was uiolently intruded into the Churche of Christe.”26 Each entry of the work takes the form of a brief account of the historical origins or development, usually papal or conciliar, of an ecclesiastical furnishing, ritual, or belief. Beneath these are listed, in abbreviated form, the sources from which they have been drawn. Marginal notes flank these entries, calling the reader’s attention either to the content of a particular passage or else to its suggested interpretation. Included within these entries, as well as interspersed between them, are several authorial commentaries, which, in conjunction with the explanations offered by adjacent marginal notation, pronounce judgement on the beliefs and practices described.27 Despite these authorial interjections, many, indeed the vast majority, of the entries in this work pass without comment. This lack of commentary is itself indicative of the underlying claim of this work: that an unbiased recitation of the development of Christian belief and practice “faithfully gathered out of most faythfull writers” would reveal the pernicious invention, and therefore also the fundamental iniquity, of traditional Catholic ceremonies and doctrines.28 Paradoxically then, the central polemical assertion of the work is that its content is not, in fact, controversial. The genius of this edition of Becon’s text is that it argues principally through tendentious editing of sources and deliberate arrangement of content rather than overt invective.29 24

Ibid., sigs. Aiiiir-Aiiiiv. Ibid., sig. Aiiiiv. 26 Ibid., sig. Avr. 27 See, for example, Becon, Relikes of Rome, sigs. Lviv-Lviir. 28 Becon, Relikes of Rome, sig. Air. 29 For an example of such tendentious editing, compare Becon’s use of Erasmus in Reliques of Rome, sig. Dir, with the modern translation of the text found in Erasmus, “An Explanation of the Apostle’s Creed,” in Collected Works of Eras25

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3. The Reliques of Rome (1563) Three years after its initial publication in 1560, a second “diligently corrected and greatly augmented” edition of The Reliques of Rome was printed.30 Unlike the first edition, this revision was dedicated to John Parkhurst, the bishop of Norfolk.31 Though Patrick Collinson has described his episcopacy as one of “benevolent ineptitude,” Becon plainly saw Parkhurst both as a fellow partisan in the struggle for further reformation of the Elizabethan church and as an active collaborator with his publisher, John Day.32 Thus, in a preface dated 10 June 1562, Becon commended him as “a perfecte mirroure and clear glasse, in whom” his readers might “at all tymes beholde and see the golden beames of godly doctrine, and Christian lyfe.”33 Becon’s esteem for Parkhurst was evidently mutual, for in 1559 the bishop had penned a Latin epigram in praise of Becon’s writing, which was printed in Becon’s Coenae Sacrosanctae Domini Nostri Iesv Christi, et Missae Papisticae, Comparatio and later reprinted in The Worckes of Thomas Becon.34 Therefore, Becon could remark of the “singular loue and liberall benefites” that Parkhurst had “heretofore both freelye and frendlye” bestowed upon him.35 This second edition was a significant revision of Becon’s previous text. It not only introduced substantial amounts of new material (approximately 340 octavo pages!) but also rearranged the existing content in order to sharpen the vituperative thrust of this work. At its most fundamental level, this shift was signalled by an alteration in the subtitle, which was changed from “concernynge Church ware and matters of Religion” to “contayning all such matters of Religion, as haue in times past bene brought into the

mus, Volume 70: Spiritualia and Pastoralia (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1998), 365-366. 30 Becon, Reliques of Rome, sig. Air. 31 Ibid., sig. Cvr. 32 Patrick Collinson, Archbishop Grindal, 1519-1583: The Struggle for a Reformed Church (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979), 110; Elizabeth Evenden, Patents, Pictures and Patronage: John Day and the Tudor Book Trade (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2008), 62; Elizabeth Evenden and Thomas S. Freeman, Religion and the Book in Early Modern England: The Making of John Foxe’s ‘Book of Martyrs’ (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 105. 33 Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon, fol. lviiir. 34 Becon, Coenae Sacrosanctae Domini Nostri Iesv Christi, et Missae Papsticae, Comparatio (Basil: Johann Oporinus, 1559), between the dedicatory epistle and the list of authors cited; Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon, fol. Cviiir. 35 Becon, Reliques of Rome, sig. Biiir.

History as Polemical Theology in Elizabethan England

23

Church by the Pope and his adherents.”36 Likewise, instead of beginning with accounts of the ceremonial and architectural elements of Catholic religion as his previous edition had done, Becon began this recension with the “usurped power and fayned authorite” of the pope.37 This new beginning underscored the notion that religious innovation was not simply a matter of the accretion of custom over time or the forgetting of the original intentions of ceremonies, two explanations with which he had flirted in his first edition, but rather was the result of an elaborate and sinister confidence trick by the pope and his adherents.38 This radical shift in tone and content was the result of a reply to the first edition of The Relikes of Rome written by Richard Smyth, the former holder of the royal lectureship in theology at Oxford and a Catholic clergyman (1499/1500–1563), then residing in Leuven.39 In the third edition of his Confutatio of Philipp Melanchthon, printed in the late summer of 1562, Smyth added a new section, attacking the Apologia of John Jewel, the bishop of Salisbury (1522–1571).40 A third of this new section (eleven octavo pages) was dedicated to a historical refutation of “certain most empty trifles and unadulterated fantasies” which Becon had “not so much ignorantly and shamelessly as irreligiously babbled.”41 Stridently proclaiming Becon’s mendacity, Smyth’s response focused upon discrediting his evangelical adversary’s accounts of the evolution of Eucharistic practice: particularly the consecration of altars, the mixing of water with wine, the elevation of the Host, and the celebration of the Latin Mass.42 Needless to say, Smyth’s response infuriated Becon, who retaliated the following year by including an annotated version of Symth’s Edwardian recantation, which had denied the sacrificial nature of the Mass, in his 36

Ibid., sig. Air. Ibid., sig. Cir. 38 Ibid., sigs. Liir- Liiv, Lviv-Lviir. 39 Richard Smyth, Confutatio eorvm quve Philippvs Melanchton obijcit contra Missae sacrificium (Lovanii/Leuven: Steven Valery for John Bogard, 1562). Though the privilege of this work is dated 5 February, its dedication was written in August 1562, placing this edition after two earlier printings of this text: the first in Paris in February; the second in Leuven in March. Curiously, there is no mention of this episode in J. Andreas Löwe, Richard Smyth and the Language of Orthodoxy: Reimagining Tudor Catholic Polemicism (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 64-67, 218-220. For a scholarly account of Bishop John Jewel’s Apologia and the theological controversy that it precipitated, see John Booty, John Jewel as Apologist of the Church of England (London: SPCK, 1963), 36-82. 40 Smyth, Confutatio, sigs. Fir-Hviiir. 41 Ibid., sigs. Hiir-Hviiir. 42 Ibid., sigs. Hiir, Hiiiiv, Hvr, Hvv. 37

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work The Monstrous Merchandise of the Romish Bishops.43 Addressing this edition to Sir Francis Russell, Becon thanked him for defending The Relikes of Rome “againste mine eunemies and backbiters” and specifically against that doubler dissembler and ranke Papiste Richard Smith, sometime reader of the deuinity lecture in Oxford, and nowe a subtle sycophant and blasphemous backbiter of other mennes godly trauayles, living in Brabant as an ennemye of his own natiue countrye and an aduersary of Goddes true religion and of the Quenes highnesses most godly and lawfull proceedinges.44

Though he complained of Symth’s “most uirulent and poysonful pen,” Becon’s revised edition adopted similar rhetoric.45 The most notable features of the second edition of The Reliques of Rome, which was produced in the wake of Smyth’s reply, were its uncompromisingly trenchant tone and its inclusion of salacious details. Though criticism forced Becon to include more patristic, medieval, and contemporary sources, lifting the total count from sixty-eight to one hundred and thirty-nine, it also pressed him to revel in the worst sort of historical slander, as long as it served to undercut traditional beliefs and practices.46 Ultimately, controversy had induced Becon to embrace a more radically polarized position.47 One indication of this shift is the alteration of biblical epigraphs in the two versions of this work. While the first edition began with Matthew 15:13, “Euery plant, saith Christe, that my heauenly father hathe not planted, shalbe plucked up by the rotes,” the second commenced with Isaiah 5:20-22:

43

Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon, fols. cclxxir-cclxxiiv. Ibid., fol. clxxxr. As in early modern England, the word “doubler” meant both “something that doubles” and a “double-dealer,” Becon uses this word to remind his readers that previously Smyth had recanted twice and that currently he was working deceitfully to impair the furtherance of true religion in England. 45 Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon, fol. clxxxv. 46 Becon, Relikes of Rome, sigs. Aviiv-Aviiiv; ibid., sigs. Ciiir-Ciiiir. A particularly striking example of the sort of slander appearing in this second edition can be seen in the lengthy description of an outbreak of sodomy blamed on Anselm of Canterbury (Reliques of Rome, sig. Giiv). 47 For a comparable transformation in the writing of John Foxe, see Thomas Betteridge, “From Prophetic to Apocalyptic: John Foxe and the Writing of History,” in John Foxe and the English Reformation, ed. David Loades (Aldershot: Ashgate, 1997), 210-232. 44

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Wo be unto them, that call euill good, and good euill, whiche make darknesse light and lighte darkenesse, that make soure swet, and swete soure. Wo be unto them, that are wise in their owne sighte, and thinke themselues to haue understandyng.48

These two epigraphs set the tone for the works that follow them. While the first edition optimistically imagines historical argumentation uprooting the traditional beliefs and practices still tended by clerical apologists, the second edition pessimistically conceives of such debate as an ongoing battle with dissembling forces, deliberately attempting to sow error and confusion.

4. Conclusion Throughout the next century, The Relikes of Rome remained an important reference work in English-speaking debates over the validity of traditional beliefs and practices. Despite the efforts of Catholic polemicists, such as Thomas Stapleton, who reminded readers that they had “good cause to suspecte the reportes” of men like Becon “whiche are knowen to maintaine a faction and singular opinion lately spronge vp, who reporte thinges passed many hundred yeares before their daies”, many English readers continued to appeal to Becon’s text as a reasonable digest of relevant historical sources.49 As a result, almost two generations of Catholic apologists mention Becon’s work, singling out its description of the Mass as “begotten, conceaued, and borne anone after the Apostles tymes” as worthy of rebuttal.50 Neither was concern over the content of this work

48

Becon, Relikes of Rome, sig. Air. Thomas Stapleton, The history of the Church of Englande, compiled by the venerable Bede, Englishman (Antwerp: John Laet, 1565: RSTC 1778), sig. Aiiir; William Somner, The antiquities of Canterbury (London: John Legat for Richard Thrale, 1640: RSTC 22918), sig. Xxiiiv; Thomas Ridley, A view of civile and ecclesiasticall law (Oxford: William Turner, 1634: RSTC 21055.5), sig. Ziiv. 50 John Pickford, The safegarde from ship-wracke, of Heauens hauen (Douay: Peter Tulu, 1618: RSTC 19073), sig. Oir; S. N. [Sylvester Norris], Antidote or soueraigne remedie against the pestiferous writings of all English sectaries (Saint-Omer: English College Press, 1622: RSTC 18658), sig. Oiiv; William Pendryck, The application of the lawes of England for catholike priesthood and the sacrifice of the masse (Mechlin: Henry Jaye, 1623: RSTC 7435), sig. Hiiir; John Clare, The conuerted Iew or certaine dialogues betweene Micheas a learned Iew and others, touching diuers points of religion, controuerted betweene the Catholikes and Protestants (Printed by the English secret press, 1630: RSTC 5351), sig. Eii 5v; Edward Knott, Protestancy 49

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solely the purview of Catholics. By the middle of the seventeenth century, The Relikes of Rome was being used by Puritans, such as William Prynne, to justify further reformation of the English church.51 Though it has been almost entirely overlooked by modern scholarship, this work was important in its own day. It offers valuable insight into the ways in which early modern individuals sought to marshal the past to shape their religious present.

condemned by the expresse verdict and sentence of Protestants (Douay, 1654: Wing W2930), sig. Lliiiv. 51 Kenneth Fincham and Nicholas Tyacke, Altars Restored: The Changing Face of English Religious Worship, 1547-1700 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 154-155.

CHAPTER THREE POLEMICAL DISCOURSE IN JOANNES JOSEPHOWICZ’S ANNALIUM URBIS LEOPOLIENSIS TOMUS EXTRAVAGANS (1703) LYUDMYLA SHEVCHENKO-SAVCHYNS’KA

Introduction The seventeenth- and eighteenth-century chroniclers of the PolishLithuanian Commonwealth (further referred to as the Commonwealth) focused predominantly on describing wars, battles, sieges, and Cossack revolts. Of these, the Battle of Khotyn (1621), the Khmelnytsky Uprising (1648–1657), and the Great Northern War (1700–1721) were the ones that most attracted their attention. The Khmelnytsky Uprising (hereafter also referred to simply as the Uprising), which forms the backdrop to this essay, was invariably interpreted as the central historical event of the period. All other events were treated as less important, and they were regarded as either leading to or ensuing from the Uprising. Different authors offered different depictions of the rebellion of Bohdan Khmelnytsky (ca. 1595–1657), but hardly any of them limited themselves only to brief factual accounts; their descriptions can rather be compared to large-scale paintings vividly portraying the tragic events of the time. Such were, for instance, the chronicle of the Lviv Carmelite monastery, the Bellum Scythico-Cosacicum (1652) by Joachim Pastorius (1611–1681),1 a docu-

1

Joachim Pastorius, Bellum scythico-cosacicum seu de conjuratione Tartarorum, Cosacorum et plebis Russicae contra Regnum Poloniae ab invictissimo Poloniae et Sveciae Rege Ioanne Casimiro profligata (Dantisci/GdaĔsk: Sumptibus Georgii Försteri, 1652).

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ment collection entitled Tractatus historico-politici (1657),2 and the Annalium urbis Leopoliensis tomus extravagans compiled by Joannes Josephowicz (1663–1729)3 in 1703. It is no wonder that fact and fiction often merge in these historiographical works; such syncretism of genres was typical of the period. Therefore, it was only natural that the Cossack rebellion would also be echoed in poetry.4 Numerous accounts of sieges5 and battles6 were written immediately after they had taken place and were published individually by Andreas Abrek (d. 1656),7 Joannes Bytomski (d. 1657),8 Joannes Bozhetsky (b. 1640),9 Samuel Kuszewicz (1607–1666),10 and others. These authors had either witnessed and taken part in the events they described, or they belonged to the first post-war generation. Some of the post-war historians, Joannes Josephowicz among them, deliberately turned their attention and effort to recording the memories of those who had witnessed and survived the Cossack rebellion. For example, Joannes Bytomski’s short but enthusiastic work Obsidio Zamoscana was published immediately after the Cossack siege of Zamostia in 1648.11 Bytomski, like other authors with personal experience of the Uprising, conveys extremely negative attitudes towards Cossacks, who were described by him as always thirsty for war and as those whom Bohdan Khmelnytsky had sicced on the Polish Kingdom. Similar sentiments were also espoused by the author of the abovementioned Carmelite chronicle, who considered the Cossacks to be an instrument of war in the hands of God’s wrath and justice. Before the Uprising, the Neo-Latin authors of the Commonwealth had conceived of Cossackdom as the country’s protection against attacks from the south and a guarantee that the “Asian dragon” would not impose its 2

Tractatus historico-politici in quibus aurea bulla Caroli IV Romanorum imperatoris de constitutionibus imperialibus (Coloniae Agrippinae/Cologne, 1657). 3 The author is referred to as əɧ ɘɡɟɮɨɜɢɱ [Yan Yuzefovych] in Ukrainian. 4 Lyudmyla Shevchenko-Savchynska and Kostyantyn Balashov, Ancient Literature Breaking Down Stereotypes (Kyiv: Medievist, 2015), 140. 5 For example, the sieges of Lviv (1648 and 1655), Lublin (1655), Zamostia (1648), and others. 6 Such as the battles of Korsun’ (26 May 1648), Zhovti Vody (29 April–16 May 1648), Pyliavtsi (23 September 1648), and Berestechko (28–30 June 1651). 7 He is referred to as Ⱥɧɞɪɿɣ Ⱥɛɪɟɤ [Andryi Abrek] by Ukrainian scholars. 8 əɧ Ȼɢɬɨɦɫɶɤɢɣ [Yan Bytomsky] in Ukrainian. 9 ȱɜɚɧ Ȼɨɠɟɰɶɤɢɣ [Ivan Bozhetsky]. 10 ɋɚɦɿɣɥɨ Ʉɭɲɟɜɢɱ [Samiylo Kushevych]. 11 Joannes Bytomski, Obsidio Zamoscana, quam Perduelles Cosachi iunctis viribus Tartarorum, grassante & ad affligendum Regnum conspirante audacia, fatali Poloniae tempore sub Interregnum Anno Dni. 1648. fecerunt, (Zamoscii/ZamoĞü, 1649).

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“bloody laws” on their republic—ne scribat nobis leges sanguineas Draco Asiaticus.12 However, the Cossack rebellion brought a substantial change of view in its wake, and historiographers now began to speak of Cossacks as the many-headed hydra, a name given to them to indicate their relentless character: “The Republic wished to tame this many-headed hydra by means of gold rather than iron. Therefore the Cossacks were hired as mercenaries.”13 Another allegory that emerged as a result of the Uprising was the image of the crushed shield, which symbolized the loss of protection and power. Authors like Bartholomaeus Zimorowicz (1597–1677),14 Joannes Petricius (1592–1641),15 Joannes Josephowicz, or anonymous monastery chroniclers, harnessed this image to express their disillusionment with the Cossacks, whom they accused of having undermined the power of the Republic, thereby exposing it to frequent defeats from the allegorical Draco Asiaticus.

The Annalium urbis Leopoliensis tomus extravagans and Its Contexts Joannes Thomas Josephowicz was born in 1663 into a wealthy bourgeois family in Lviv. His ancestors had played an important role in the public life of the city. His grandfather, who was head of the city arsenal, acted so bravely during the siege of Lviv by Khmelnytsky in 1648 that after his death the city government exempted his wife from all taxes, putting her name on the list of the twelve honorary widows of Lviv. His father supplied food to Polish troops and died in 1664, hit by a Cossack bullet, during the siege of Stavyshche. Consequently, the Josephowicz family was bereaved of their means of subsistence, and Joannes was, since his early childhood, brought up in a Catholic monastery. All these circumstances are important for a proper understanding of the historical work Josephowicz wrote in his later years. The gifted young man, rapidly climbing the ladder of ecclesiastical career, soon won the favour of the archbishop of 12 Andreas Abrek, X Octobris Anni M. DC. XXI. seu monumentum virtutis et gloriae Polonae (Zamoscii/ZamoĞü: Ex officina typographica Academiae Zamoscensis, 1644), 2. 13 Joseph Bartholomaeus Zimorowicz, Leopolis, Russiae Metropolis, a Turcis, Tartaris, Cosacis, Moldavis, Anno M. DC. LXXII hostiliter obsessa, a Deo mirifice liberata (Cracoviae/Kraków: Typis Universitatis, 1693), Ⱥ2: “Respublica denique hydram illam multicipem auro magis, quam ferro edomare cupiens, stipendiariam sibi fecit.” 14 Ȼɚɪɬɨɥɨɦɟɣ Ɂɢɦɨɪɨɜɢɱ [Bartolomey Zymorovych] in Ukrainian. 15 əɧ ɉɟɬɪɢɰɿɣ [Yan Petrytsyi].

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Lviv Constantinus Zielinski (1700–1709), who commissioned him, in 1703, to write a history of the last one hundred years of the Catholic Archdiocese of Lviv. In 1704, after the occupation of Lviv by Charles XII of Sweden, Josephowicz acted as mediator and carried out a successful diplomatic mission. He died in 1728. Josephowicz’s Neo-Latin work Annalium urbis Leopoliensis tomus extravagans (AuL),16 albeit little known to Ukrainian and Polish researchers, doubtlessly represents a landmark in the historiographies of both nations. Recording events between 1614 and 1700, the chronicle is divided into sections corresponding to the periods in which individual archbishops of Lviv held office. Each year begins with an account of ecclesiastical affairs, then follows a description of important political events in the Voivodeship of Rus’ and their echo in Lviv, which is often complemented by a colourful narration of natural disasters and miraculous occurrences. Most records contain Josephowicz’s commentaries of varying length, depending on the greater or lesser significance he attributed to each individual event. Some of these commentaries, while drawing no definite conclusions, comprise multiple, often conflicting, interpretations which prompt the reader to reflect more profoundly on the past. This aspect of Josephowicz’s historiography—his quest for objectivity—deserves special attention since it clearly distinguishes him from other historiographers of his time and even makes him stand out from many of those who succeeded him. In addition, as Ukrainian historian Natalia Yakovenko has pointed out, the views held by the authors who belonged to the first post-war generation are usually the most interesting ones for present-day research because

16 The work has been preserved in two manuscript copies dating from 1769, both of which are now kept in the Ossolineum Library in Wrocáaw, Poland, under shelf marks 124/II and 147/III respectively (also accessible online at www.dbc.wroc .pl/). The copies were made in the Carmelite monastery of Lviv at the instigation of Fr. Valerianus Gruszczynski, OCD. The full title of ms. 124/II reads: Annalium urbis Leopoliensis tomus extravagans juris publici et privati. Revolutiones in Regno et contingentia praesertim in Provinciis Russiae, ecclesiastica et civilia, bona et mala, prospera et adversa, casus et eventus varios variorum in variis Rebus, Personis, et Materiis enuntians [variant reading in ms. 147/III: enucleans]. Orbita temporum et Fortunae rotatos, periodo autem satis rotunda antea Perillustris Admodum Reverendi Domini Joannis Thomae Josephowicz [variant reading in ms. 147/III: Jozefowicz] Canonici Cathedralis Leopoliensis evolutos.

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their [the authors’] hatred had not yet been transformed into an entrenched myth but, cleansed of personal emotions, it had become an impersonal hatred, one that was mediated through cultural context.17

The AuL is a good illustration of this thesis. Before turning our attention to the polemical discourse of Josephowicz’s chronicle, it is important to consider the cultural context in which it was written. The first half of the seventeenth century in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth saw the fading away of polemics concerning church union.18 These conflicts, which brought with them a long series of religious treatises and pamphlets, inevitably left their imprint on the spiritual atmosphere of early modern Ukraine. Indeed, Ukraine was portrayed by Neo-Latin historiographers as bearing a dialogical19 and antithetical character. Polish researcher Piotr Borek highlights the ambivalent character of Ukraine as viewed by Polish-Lithuanian historiographers: Ukraine, as portrayed in memoirs and chronicles, has many faces. It is abounding in crops on the one hand and stained with blood on the other. Although the latter characteristic prevailed over the first, it is important to note that the stereotype of Ukraine as a fostering mother and a land flowing with milk and honey has never disappeared.20

One of the writers coeval with the Khmelnytsky Uprising, Bartholomaeus Zimorowicz, in addition to employing the image of a land flowing with milk and honey, even coined a counter-version of this topos by depicting Ukraine as a land flowing with blood and tears. He made dexterous use of this opposition in 1672 when, reflecting on the aftermath of the Uprising, he wrote that the flourishing Ruthenian land, once “flowing with milk and 17

ɇɚɬɚɥɹ əɤɨɜɟɧɤɨ [Natalya Yakovenko], “Ȼɪɚɬɢ/ɜɨɪɨɝɢ ɚɛɨ ɉɨɥɹɤɢ ɨɱɢɦɚ ɭɤɪɚʀɧɰɹ XVII-XVIII ɫɬɨɥɿɬɶ” [Brothers/enemies: Poles as seen by seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Ukrainains], ɇɟɡɚɥɟɠɧɢɣ ɤɭɥɶɬɭɪɨɥɨɝɿɱɧɢɣ ɱɚɫɨɩɢɫ «Ȳ» no. 10, 1997, http://www.ji.lviv.ua/n10texts/jakovenko.htm. 18 The Union of Brest achieved in 1596. 19 Dialogism as a particular aspect of culture was explored by many twentieth-century scholars, such as Hans-Georg Gadamer, Jürgen Habermas, Mykhaylo Bakhtin, Irina Vasilyeva, Volodymyr Druzhynin, Dmytro Kuzmenko, Dmytro Leontiev, Evhen Tunick, and others. 20 Piotr Borek, Szlakami dawnej Ukrainy [Revisiting ancient Ukraine]. Studia staropolskie. Series: Biblioteka Tradycji Literackich XV (Kraków: Collegium Columbinum, 2002), 5: “PamiĊtnikarska, ale przecieĪ i kronikarska Ukraina ma wiele twarzy. TĊ urodziwą i tĊ zakrwawioną. Co waĪne, choü druga ‘zdominowaáa’ pierwszą, nigdy jednak nie zostaá zagáuszony stereotyp Ukrainy-matki, Īywicielki, ziemi ‘mlekiem i miodem páynącej.’”

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honey (melle et lacte diffluens),” had been transformed by devastating Turkish campaigns into a land “flooded with its own blood and tears (sanguine et lacrymis mersa suis).”21 Interestingly, Josephowicz commended Zimorowicz’s work in his chronicle entry for the year 1672 with the following words: Whoever wishes to read a concise account [of this Turkish attack], let him consult the book of Bartholomaeus Zimorowicz, councillor of Lviv, who described all the dangers of that war. He, and another councillor named Gonsiorek, who was then mayor, snatched the city of Lviv out of the hands of the Asian tyrant and rescued it through their prudent advice, as is evident from this Zimorowicz’s work. . . . But in order not to look like someone warming up cabbage [that is, repeating what has been said], I, being strongly committed to truth and preferring brevity, will now continue my account according to the description of canon Jacobus Gawach.22

Josephowicz’s account of the events of 1672 is filled with the author’s restrained desire to speak out critically. However, here as elsewhere, he managed to dominate his feelings, not losing his objectivity. Instead of letting his negative emotions erupt, Josephowicz preferred to switch to another theme, not only for the sake of brevity but also, as he himself put it, because he had a passion for truth. The Khmelnytsky Uprising was usually presented, by Ukrainians and Poles alike, as an apocalyptic event. The bestial crimes and sacrileges, the terrifying spectacles of total extermination, and the punishments unheard of before were all interpreted as an unambiguous omen of “the end of times.”23 Josephowicz’s history, in particular the letters and memoirs he 21

Josephus Bartholomaeus Zimorowicz, Leopolis Triplex czyli Kronika miasta Lwowa (1672) in Josephi Bartholomaei Zimorowicz Opera quibus res gestae urbis Leopolis illustrantur ex mandato senatus eiusdem civitatis, ed. Cornelius Heck (Leopoli: Sumptibus regiae urbis Leopoliensis, 1899), 124. 22 “Qui nosse succinte cupit, legat libellum a Bartholomaeo Zimorowicz, consule Leopoliensi, ad omnia hujus belli discrimina attendentis, qui cum alio consule, Gonsiorek dicto, protunc proconsul, consilliis suis Leopolim e manibus asiatici tyranni eripuit servavitque, prout hoc suo opere . . . testatur. . . . Ego sicut veritatis et brevitatis percupidus, ne cramben repetere videar, sequor descriptionem Jacobi Gawach canonici.” Quoted according to Vladymyr Antonovych’s partial edition of the AuL in his ɋɛɨɪɧɢɤ ɥɟɬɨɩɢɫɟɣ, ɨɬɧɨɫɹɳɢɯɫɹ ɤ ɢɫɬɨɪɢɢ ɘɠɧɨɣ ɢ Ɂɚɩɚɞɧɨɣ Ɋɭɫɢ [A collection of annals relating to the history of Southern and Western Rus’] (Kiev: Typografiya H. T. Korchak-Novyckaho, 1888), 200, http://litopys.org .ua/sborlet/sborlet06.htm. (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, pp. 797-798.) 23 ɇɚɬɚɥɹ əɤɨɜɟɧɤɨ [Natalya Yakovenko], ɉɚɪɚɥɟɥɶɧɢɣ ɫɜɿɬ. Ⱦɨɫɥɿɞɠɟɧɧɹ ɡ ɿɫɬɨɪɿʀ ɭɹɜɥɟɧɶ ɬɚ ɿɞɟɣ ɜ ɍɤɪɚʀɧɿ XVI-XVII ɫɬ. [The parallel world: Essays on the

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quotes, exhibits clear signs of an apocalyptic worldview as well. Here, it may be useful to enumerate the standard topoi associated with the Cossackdom of that time and illustrate them with examples: 1. The lower class seized the power to dominate over the upper class. And so this noble and free society . . . experienced cruelty and suffered death from their own servants.24

2. Priests were killed and churches destroyed. 3. The bodies of dead enemies were hideously desecrated. He threw them [the dead bodies of enemies] out of urns and coffins, cut them into pieces, dispersed flour over them, and threw them as food to dogs as he moved along roads and through villages. Hence it is clear with how much hatred and cruelty he behaved towards those Poles who were alive if the dead ones were persecuted by him with such ferocity.25

4. Infants were cruelly murdered. A thousand people, not counting children, fell in that fortress, so that blood ran downhill with a full stream, as official reports attest.26

history of notions and ideas in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Ukraine] (Ʉɢʀɜ/ Kyiv: Ʉɪɢɬɢɤɚ, 2002), 220. 24 ɋɛɨɪɧɢɤ ɥɟɬɨɩɢɫɟɣ, 163: “Atque sic agmen illud nobile et liberum . . . a servis suis saevitiem invenit, internecionem toleravit.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 163.) However, Josephowicz did not in any way regard the Cossacks as being previously subordinate to the nobles. This motive in his description of the Polish defeat in the Battle of Batih (1652) is probably due to the presence of peasants in the Cossack army, as peasants’ position in relation to nobility was indeed one strongly resembling servitude. 25 Ibid., 128: “Illa etenim ex urnis et loculis eiecta, in frusta concisa, laevi farina conspersit et canibus in esum per vicos et vias proiecit; et hinc patet, quanto odio, quanta crudelitate in vivos Polonos ferebatur et saeviit, qui etiam mortuos tanta feritate insectatus est.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 128.) 26 Ibid., 149: “1,000 capita in arce illa (praeter infantes) cecidisse, acta consularia docent, ita, ut sanguis ex monte illo abunde alvei instar deorsum fluxerit.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 149.)

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5. The value of money and precious objects dropped immensely. So that a single measure of wine was exchanged for a silver vessel or for expensive winter clothes made of silk. Precious stones and coins were not counted one by one but distributed in bushels filled up to the brim.27

Finally, a short remark should be made regarding the geographical setting of the AuL. Regional and compilatory annalistics, a genre to which Josephowicz’s chronicle also belongs, is characterized by its not being confined to local limits. Authors of such works viewed their native soil as part of a larger space, or even Europe, through paying attention to the social, political, and cultural events of the whole country, as well as those taking place abroad.28 This also applies to Josephowicz’s chronicle which covers a huge number of events occurring over an extended period of time. However, his broad scope did not prevent him from being locally-oriented and patriotic when it came to writing about his native Lviv. His view in this respect fully coincided with that of his compatriots: The city was regarded as being situated not so much in the Commonwealth, which was too abstract for the people of Lviv to identify themselves with, but it was rather seen as belonging to what was then referred to as Our Rus’, a particular region of the Commonwealth, which extended to the river San, a tributary of the Vistula, at one end, and included “Ukraine” at the other. It must be remembered, though, that the geographic extent of Ukraine, as conceived of by Josephowicz, differed vastly from the territory included within its borders today; his Ukraine only comprised the regions of Kyiv, Vinnitsya, and Cherkasy (on both banks of the river Dnipro).

Polemical Discourse in the Annalium urbis Leopoliensis tomus extravagans Joannes Josephowicz, an ardent patriot of Lviv and a proud member of its community, certainly felt regret when he had to admit that, during the 27 Ibid., 135: “Ut vel unus cyathus vini argenteo vase aut pretiosa villosa serica veste permutaretur; gemmae pretiosae, pecunia signata non numero distincta, sed modio pleno distribueretur.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 135.) 28 Ɇɢɤɨɥɚ Ʉɨɪɩɚɧɸɤ [Mykola Korpanyuk], ɋɥɨɜɨ. ɏɪɟɫɬ. ɒɚɛɥɹ: ɍɤɪɚʀɧɫɶɤɟ ɦɨɧɚɫɬɢɪɫɶɤɟ, ɰɟɪɤɨɜɧɟ, ɫɜɿɬɫɶɤɟ ɤɪɚɣɨɜɟ ɥɿɬɨɩɢɫɚɧɧɹ XVI–XVIII ɫɬ., ɤɨɦɩɿɥɹɰɿʀ ɤɨɡɚɰɶɤɨɝɨ ɥɿɬɨɩɢɫɚɧɧɹ XVIII ɫɬ. ɹɤ ɿɫɬɨɪɢɤɨ-ɥɿɬɟɪɚɬɭɪɧɟ ɹɜɢɳɟ [Word, Cross, and Sabre: The monastic, ecclesiastical, and secular regional annalistics of Ukraine from the sixteenth to the eighteenth century; Compilations of eighteenth-century Cossack annals as a historical and literary phenomenon] (Ʉɢʀɜ/Kyiv: ɋɦɨɥɨɫɤɢɩ, 2005), 904.

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siege of the city in 1648, the Ruthenian part of its population endeavoured in every way to support Khmelnytsky. He could not pass this fact without notice: The foolish schismatics conspired among themselves and—on account of their faith being the same as the faith of Cossacks, and also because they believed this move would ensure their safety—perfidiously let the enemy into the fortress, thereby exposing both the Catholics and themselves to danger. They did not know that a pact achieved by evil means would be broken in like manner.29

It was not without reason that Josephowicz emphasized the common faith of Cossacks and the Ruthenian populace of Lviv. For him and his contemporaries, religious affiliation was obviously an important, if not the foremost, sign of their identity. As a Catholic church dignitary identifying himself with the Polish, anti-Cossack side of the conflict, he did not refrain from labelling his Orthodox co-citizens as “the foolish schismatics.” However, in order to maintain objectivity, he at the same time reported that some of the Ruthenian church communities were engaged in collecting ransom during the siege of Lviv. Interestingly, Josephowicz presented the leader of the Uprising, Hetman Khmelnytsky, as a man who showed a deep concern for the fate of the Ruthenians of Lviv during both sieges of the city. At his meeting with city representatives in 1655, Khmelnytsky vehemently declared that since he had been proclaimed the leader of the whole Duchy of Rus’, he was going to revenge the injustice suffered by Ruthenians in both ecclesiastical and secular affairs and that he would not cede to anybody his right over Rus’ and its defence.30

These words were certainly spoken with full seriousness because the city’s emissaries rushed immediately to assure the Hetman that the Ruthenians in Lviv had suffered no oppression at all:

29

ɋɛɨɪɧɢɤ ɥɟɬɨɩɢɫɟɣ, 148: “Schysmatici maesones, condictamine inito (quod una sit eorum fides, eadem sacra cum cosacis, ideo ab iis securitas certa) ingressum in arcem subdole hostibus monstrarent et catolicos et se ipsos perderent, nescientes, quod quae scelere patrata est et parta, scelere rumpetur fides.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 475.) 30 Ibid., 180: “Se jam principem totius Russiae ducatus creatum esse, ideo injurias Russorum, et sacris et profanis causis perpessas, ultum iri, neminique titulum et defensionem cessurum Russiae.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 579.)

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Chapter Three The delegates denied that the Orthodox Ruthenians had suffered injury in their city, and affirmed that their community, on the contrary, had flourished for centuries and enjoyed safety guaranteed by the laws of the kingdom.31

Also illuminating are the accounts of Bohdan Khmelnytsky’s welcome in Lviv and Kyiv; they give us a very good insight into the author’s attitude towards the Uprising and its leader. Josephowicz wrote that Khmelnytsky entered Kyiv riding a noble horse like a conqueror . . . People, widely dispersed, stood watching the unusual show, clapping their hands, exulting and praising him as the champion and defender of their religion.32

In contrast, the people’s emotions changed diametrically once the danger was over. Describing the lifting of the siege, Josephowicz, like other chroniclers of that time, marvelled at Khmelnytsky’s courage as he was not afraid of being hit by a bullet fired from the city walls: Escorted by his guardsmen, Khmelnytsky was riding a pure-bred horse in the immediate vicinity of the city fortification, with the flag held high and with great confidence.33

This observation clearly shows that the danger of Khmelnytsky being shot dead was real. Eventually, after his troops had retreated from Lviv, the bells, which had been kept silent until the moment the enemy was driven out, now joyfully rang out their thanks to the Most High, and the clock began to measure off the hours of the citizens’ liberty and deliverance from the hostile yoke. Public prayers of thanks for the liberation were held in churches all over the city.34 31

Ibid.: “Cum ablegati religionem rutheno-graecam aliqua praejudicia pati in civitate negassent, quinimo a tot seculis in viridi observantia vigere legibusque regni praescripta securitate gaudere allegassent.” 32 Ibid., 152: “More victoris vehebatur equo generoso . . . Plebs, late effusa, insolito spectaculo gaudebat, applaudebat, ovabat, assertorem et vindicem religionis suae advenisse clamitabat.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 481.) 33 Ibid., 190: “Ibat sub ipsa valla ac propugnacula civitatis cum praetoriana cohorte sua sub labaro, equo generoso insidens, magna fiducia Chmelnicius.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 595.) 34 Ibid.: “Hactenus praeimperato silentio campanae, exacto hoste, gratiam altissimo sonuere laetanter liberasque ab jugo hostili horas civibus metiri horologia ceperunt. Supplicationes publicae per ecclesias pro liberatione cum gaudio celebratae.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 596.)

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Josephowicz, an ardent patriot of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, unambiguously regarded the Khmelnytsky Uprising as a hostile action directed against the state; nor did he conceal his personal aversion to it. Despite this, he attempted something novel and exceptional in the context of the historiography of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth—he made every effort to put aside indiscriminate accusations and tried to explain the causes that gave rise to the rebellion. It is obvious that Josephowicz was deeply interested in the Khmelnytsky Uprising because his account of its events occupies considerable space in his chronicle, compared with the attention he paid to the main subject of his work, that is, the history of the Diocese of Lviv. The two narrative lines in Josephowicz’s chronicle, the ecclesiastical and the secular, when considered separately, bring to light two different faces of the author. On the one hand, he appears as an ardent Catholic with a taste for mystery who enthusiastically recorded miracles and sensational occurrences which, however, were often incompatible with Christian doctrine.35 On the other hand, he evidently was a talented historiographer striving to provide documentary evidence for the majority of the facts he had collected. His professionalism can also be seen in the ecclesiastical line of his chronicle where attention was given not only to Catholics but to other confessions as well, in particular to the Orthodox and the Uniats. Especially noteworthy is Josephowicz’s attitude towards the Jewish community of Lviv. Describing the citizens’ anxiety in anticipation of the Siege of 1648, he purposefully mentioned the Jews in order to give his narrative a more dramatic intensity: “Great fear invaded the hearts of the citizens of Lviv and impelled even the Jews to do repentance.”36 In spite of the animosity transpiring from this statement, Josephowicz did not withhold the fact that during both sieges, in 1648 and in 1655, the city refused to extradite their Jewish co-citizens to Khmelnytsky on account of the fact 35 For example, his narration of the events of 1628 contains an account of miracles which occurred at the icon of the Mother of God kept in the Dominican monastery in Lviv. Among them is the case of a girl who, in spite of not being a virgin, entered the church with her head uncovered and her hair braided. As she was approaching the icon to worship it, the devil flew into the church, grabbed the poor girl, ripped the ribbons off her hair, and smashed her so hard against the church wall that she immediately gave up the ghost. In memory of this event those ribbons were hung near the icon where they were still present at the time the chronicle was written. Cf. Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 116. 36 ɋɛɨɪɧɢɤ ɥɟɬɨɩɢɫɟɣ, 128: “Timor et metus animos Leopoliensium magnus invaserat, ad placandam justitiam Dei etiam infideles judaeos impulerat.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 435.)

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that “they were ready to suffer the troubles of war and even die together with Christians for the defence of the public good.”37 This straightforward excuse, however, was modified and formulated with greater political prudence in 1655: The citizens of Lviv affirmed that they could not, at any rate, release the Jews from their city, and thus bring them into servitude, inasmuch as they were tax-paying subjects of the Republic. This would have been against the strict legislation of the state, which they, not without reason, feared to transgress.38

Presumably, their decision to take a resolute stand in the matter of their Jewish compatriots was motivated not so much by their resistance against the rebel leader (since they accepted most of his terms), but rather by their desire to demonstrate their moral superiority, both over the murderers, who craved to shed the blood of civilians, and over the Jews, whom they were willing to rescue from danger regardless of mutual animosities. This humane attitude, adopted twice, in 1648 and in 1655, presents the people of Lviv in the most favourable light. To make the contrast between “us” and “them” even starker, Josephowicz did not shrink from directing harsh invectives against the Jews. At the beginning of his entry for the year 1648, he left no doubt that he considered them to be one of the main causes of the armed conflict: The excessively audacious impudence of the Jews was increasing. Instigated by the greedy shrewdness which characterizes their nation, they sought to immoderately augment the revenues of their properties for the benefit of their heirs, or more truly, for their own profit, and they did so to the detriment of the local population. They purchased the monopolies of trade, craft, and alcohol from local landlords, thereby evidently inflicting injury on their co-inhabitants. So, relying on the protection of nobility, they deprived Christians of their means of subsistence and honest living.39 37

Ibid., 146: “Pro publica defensione aequaliter cum Christianis et incommoda belli et mortem subire sint parati.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 470.) 38 Ibid., 183: “Judaeos ex civitate nullatenus se posse dimittere seu eos, ut censuales reipublicae subditos, servituti mandare posse, ob rigorem legum regni, quem merito reformidant.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 584.) 39 Ibid., 121: “Crescebat in majus judaeorum audax nimium praesumptio, qui haeredibus, bonorum proventus, vulgo intratas, (verius sibi) plus justo cum praejudicio municipum, avara gentis suae sagacitate, intendentes, monopolia, cauponarias, mercimonia, artificia, majori pretio apud dominos cum evidenti incolarum injuria, redimebant; sicque modum etiam vivendi et honestae media vitae, praesidio seu protectione nobilium . . . freti, Christianis . . . illi eripuerunt.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 418.)

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However, keeping his objectivity, Josephowicz added the following remark: I have been told by some of our older Poles, who are well informed on this matter, that the arrogant domination of the Poles in those regions increased to such an extent that even the right to dispose of churches was conceded to this [Jewish] nation.40

We should not expect to find national or religious toleration, let alone political correctness, in texts originating from the period dealt with in this chapter. Both historiography and fiction, tightly interconnected in those times, swarmed with ideas and opinions which may come as an unpleasant surprise to a modern, unprepared reader. For example, the poet Sebastianus Klenowicz (ca. 1545–1602), while glorifying Lviv in his Latin poem Roxolania, made a fierce attack on the local Jews in a passage extending to twenty-six lines. This is rather long compared to less than half the number of verses dedicated to positive characteristics of Armenians, or only two lines in which Ruthenians are mentioned in a neutral way.41 The antipathy of Bartholomaeus Zimorowicz towards Jews seems to grow stronger every time he makes a new mention of them. At the same time, however, he bows down before Poles and Germans, flattering them in every possible way.42 Piotr Borek maintains that Josephowicz “held negative attitudes towards everybody except Armenians.”43 However, it must be said that Borek based his conclusions mainly on his analysis of Josephowicz’s Polish-language work entitled Lwów utrapiony (Lviv Suffering), a diary of the Swedish siege of Lviv in 1704. Borek also remarks that

40

Ibid.: “Audivi ab antiquioribus etiam nostris Polonis, rei scientiam habentibus, quod in tantum in partibus illis insolens dominatio Polonorum processerat, ut etiam super ecclesias jus isti genti tribueret.” (Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, p. 418–419.) 41 [Sebastianus Klenowicz], Roxolania Sebastiani Sulmyrcensis Acerni, Civis Lublinensis (Cracoviae/Kraków: Typis Andreae Petricouij, 1584). 42 Joseph Bartholomaeus Zimorowicz, Leopolis triplex (1665–1672). The manuscript was edited by C. J. Heck in Josephi Bartholomaei Zimorowicz opera quibus res gestae urbis Leopolis illustrantur ex mandato senatus eiusdem civitatis (Leopoli/Lviv, 1899). 43 Borek, Szlakami, 45.

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Chapter Three a little more attention was given to Jews. Josephowicz criticized them in his diary for their refusal to pay tribute together with the city while at the same time conducting separate negotiations with the Swedes.44

Borek’s observation makes it clear that Josephowicz’s bitter antiJewish invectives, if not pardonable, can be at least partly understood. Since during the siege Josephowicz was the one who negotiated with the Swedes the sum of ransom to be paid, the Jews’ attempt to avoid payment or negotiate separately was no doubt scandalous in his eyes. If we take into account Josephowicz’s social background and other circumstances of his life, we can clearly see how much easier it would have been for him to follow entrenched stereotypes associated with the Khmelnytsky Uprising. The author of the AuL was a Roman Catholic who, in addition, attained high ecclesiastical rank. His father was killed by a Cossack bullet, which resulted in the utter pauperization of his family. The city of Lviv, of which Josephowicz was an ardent patriot, suffered extensive damage from the insurgents as well. On top of it, the author identified himself politically as a Pole. All this means he could not have the slightest sympathy for the anti-Polish side of the conflict. Even an author with a much less traumatic anamnesis, Bartholomaeus Zimorowicz, did not find it necessary either to keep a leash on his emotions or at least to give a thought to the causes which triggered the tragic events of the Cossack rebellion. Josephowicz, in stark contrast to his contemporary authors and in spite of his antipathy towards the Khmelnytsky Uprising, managed to give a relatively unprejudiced account of the conflict, and his confessional polemic remained very moderate, too.

Epilogue Reading attentively the preface to the AuL, we can clearly see the author’s focus on a serious investigation of the past through critical examination of sources as well as his desire to recount historical facts in the most objective way possible. He even regretted he could not make more thorough use of the sources he had at his disposal: “Because,” he says, the circumstances and my frail memory did not allow me to scrutinize, investigate, and note down every single fact contained in the intricate records I had at my disposal for only a very short period of time.45 44

Ibid.: “Nieco wiĊcej uwagi twórca poĞwiĊciá ĩydom. W diariuszu krytykowaá ich za to, Īe nie chcieli wypáacaü kontrybucji wspólnie z miastem, lecz sami negocjowali kwotĊ ze Szwedami.”

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Josephowicz compared his work to that of someone rummaging through ruins in search of reusable objects, likening himself to a builder: I take the stones and timber from others, but the construction of the building and its entire form is mine. I am the architect, but the construction material is collected from all different places.46

The author’s social, professional, and political background gives us every reason to expect from him far more prejudice than we can actually find in the AuL. His interpretation of the events which brought so much harm to the Commonwealth is surprisingly well-balanced. This is probably due to the dialogical character of Josephowicz’s way of thinking: instead of being quick to praise or blame without premeditation, he knew he should, before anything else, ask himself whether things were as simple as they appeared at first glance. He knew that important events could be looked upon from different angles. It is exactly this approach and this way of understanding that makes him stand out among the other historians of his time. The Latin original of Joannes Josephowicz’s Annalium urbis Leopoliensis tomus extravagans, preserved in manuscript, has never been published at full length. Only a part of it was edited by Volodymyr Antonovych in 1888. Prior to that, in 1854, Martyn Pyvotsky made an attempt to translate the chronicle into Polish, but Antonovych was critical about this translation: The translator did not simply translate the original, he made arbitrary changes in it. Following his own predilection, he decided to keep some facts and drop others. He reduced the length of the narration and modified or even effaced its character.47

The Annalium urbis Leopoliensis tomus extravagans can be justly considered a fundamental work of Ukrainian historiography, and its author’s commitment to maintaining an unbiased approach to the past makes it all the more worthy of our attention. Therefore, work has recently started on a critical commented edition of the entire manuscript. In this 45

Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, Scriptor ad lectorem [Preface], fol. 3r: “Non enim scrutari, investigare, et connotare omnia, et singula ex intortis actorum scriptis, ad breve tempus concessis, fortuna memoriaque labilis . . . permiserunt.” 46 Ibid., fol. 5r: “Lapides, ligna, ab alijs accipio, constructio tamen aedificij, et forma tota nostra est; Architectus ego, materiam operi undique conquiro.” 47 ɋɛɨɪɧɢɤ ɥɟɬɨɩɢɫɟɣ, ɉɪɟɞɢɫɥɨɜɿɟ [Foreword], xlvi, http://litopys.org.ua/sborlet/sborlet01.htm#let5.

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way Josephowicz’s chronicle, once compiled with much effort and enthusiasm, today inspires others to carry on his quest for historical objectivity. Just as Josephowicz himself desired, writing in his preface: If your learned eye registers many unworthy things, be sure it is the fault of my insufficiency and ignorance. Criticize my errors, correct them yourself, and let others correct them, but please be indulgent to me. For who can tell about events long past with absolute certainty? Be sure I have written everything to the best of my ability, and please pray to God for me.48

48 Josephowicz, Annalium, ms. 124/II, Scriptor ad lectorem [Preface], fol. 5r: “Si multa indigna oculo et eruditione tua conspexeris, insufficientiam inscitiamque meam, cognosce, argue, corrige, et aliis corrigenda relinque, parceque erranti (quis enim res veteres pro certo affirmet), omnia æqui bonique consule, et pro me Deum precare.”

PART II: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY AND SACRED ANTIQUITY

CHAPTER FOUR CATHOLIC ECCLESIOLOGY AND PROTESTANT PARODY IN THE POLEMICS OF HUNGARIA SUPERIOR ERIKA GARADNAI

The interpretation of the notion of the true church was among the key theological questions discussed by both Protestant and Catholic controversialists during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Catholics not only considered historical continuity as their own prerogative but also maintained that their visible church had exclusive possession of the rule of faith (regula fidei). According to early modern Catholic theology, the true church could be unerringly identified by the so-called notes of the church (notae ecclesiae), of which the main four were those of una, sancta, catholica, apostolica, as contained in the Apostolic Creed. In addition, symbolic phraseology, drawing on the authority of the church fathers, Tertullian and Cyprian in particular, and enjoying a long textual tradition, designated the church “the Bride of Christ,” “the Body of Christ,” “the House of God,” and so forth. This notion of the visible church stood in stark contrast to the ecclesia invisibilis of the Protestants, whose ecclesiology challenged the Catholic claim to historical continuity.1 In the Kingdom of Hungary, the 1610s and 1620s are considered to represent the acme of Protestant-Catholic controversy. This was the time when Peter Pázmány (1570–1637), the archbishop of Esztergom and the leading figure of the Catholic revival in Hungary, was fully engaged in the

1

Hugo Rahner, Symbole der Kirche: Die Ekklesiologie der Väter (Salzburg: Müller, 1964); Szabó Ferenc, SJ, Krisztus és egyháza Pázmány Péter életmĦvében (Budapest: Jézus Társasága Magyarországi Rendtartománya–L’Harmattan, 2012), 307-314.

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activities of the Counter-Reformation.2 However, the political and religious importance of confessional polemical literature, when considered in the European context, decreased after the close of the Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648). The reappearance of Catholic-Protestant controversy in the north-eastern parts of the Hungarian Kingdom in the 1650s and 1660s is therefore regarded as a unique phenomenon.3 This re-emergence of confessional debates was primarily owing to political changes: in the cities of Hungaria Superior,4 where Protestants were in the majority, both Calvinists and Catholics were granted free exercise of religion by the Peace Treaty of Linz (1645).5 In Košice, the centre and the largest city of Hungaria Superior, both churches started work with enthusiasm: the Reformed community began organizing their structures, and simultaneously the Catholics started proselytizing their non-Catholic neighbours. The most successful agents of the Catholic revival were the Jesuits, who organized their missions in Košice (1654) and in Sárospatak (1663).6 The moving spirit behind the local Catholic proselytization was the Jesuit Matthias Sambar (1617–1685) who was already experienced in missionary work and polemical confrontation. He had previously worked hard in Transylvania to win converts for the Catholic Church, where he

2

István Bitskey, Pázmány Péter (Budapest: Gondolat, 1986); István Bitskey, “Ekkléziológia és retorika Pázmány Péter mĦveiben,” Irodalomtörténeti Közlemények 104, no. 104 (2000): 294-310; Emil Hargittay, Filológia, eszmetörténet és retorika Pázmány Péter életmĦvében (Budapest: Universitas Kiadó, 2009). 3 János Heltai, MĦfajok és mĦvek: a XVII. század magyarországi könyvkiadásában (1601–1655) (Budapest: Országos Széchényi Könyvtár–Universitas Kiadó, 2008), 104-111. 4 The term Hungaria Superior, or Capitaneatus partium superiorum Regni Hungariae (The Captaincy of the upper parts of the Kingdom of Hungary), denotes the historical territory which, between the mid-sixteenth and the end of the seventeenth centuries, included present-day eastern Slovakia, north-eastern Hungary, and the adjacent parts of Subcarpathian Rus’ and Romania. Its central offices were located in Košice (Lat. Cassovia, Hung. Kassa, Germ. Kaschau), now the metropolis of eastern Slovakia. 5 Before the Peace Treaty of Linz (1645), only Lutherans inhabiting the royal free towns of the area enjoyed religious freedom according to the Confessio Pentapolitana from 1549. 6 Katalin Péter, “A jezsuiták mĦködésének elsĘ szakasza Sárospatakon,” in Papok és nemesek: magyar mĦvelĘdéstörténeti tanulmányok a reformációval kezdĘdĘ másfél évszázadból, (Budapest: Ráday GyĦjtemény, 1995), 186-199, especially 198.

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was well-known for his sermons and religious disputes.7 Sambar was an extraordinarily famous person, a highly experienced missionary and proselytizer, who could be regarded as the prototype of a Jesuit. His Protestant opponents sought to discredit him and his work by disparagingly charging him with “aping Pázmány.” Sambar initiated this controversy, both verbal and written, with the Protestant preachers of Hungaria Superior in 1663 when the Jesuits started their mission in Sárospatak and Sambar distributed his pamphlet to the Protestants. A series of seventeen treatises produced between 1663 and 1672 in the wake of Sambar’s initiative, constitutes the largest Hungarian-language polemical corpus of the seventeenth century.8 The foundation stone of the controversy was laid in 1661 by Sambar’s principal work entitled Három idvösséges kérdés (Three Questions of Salvation).9 Since the Jesuit mission was confronted with the task of winning over a predominantly Calvinist territory for the Church of Rome, it is no surprise that the man leading this mission decided to enter the local religious and intellectual environment of Hungaria Superior through his focus on ecclesiology. His aim was to demonstrate the antiquity and historical continuity of the Catholic Church, and he therefore emphasized the attribute (nota ecclesiae) of catholicity, that is, temporal and spatial universality. The aim of this essay is to shed some light on the structure of Matthias Sambar’s ecclesiological argument as well as on the way his opponents attempted to subvert it and ridicule the whole work and its author. 7 Cf. Lajos Horváth, Sámbár Mátyás élete és mĦvei (Budapest: “Élet” Irodalmi és Nyomda Részvénytársaság, 1918); Antal Molnár, “Az udvarhelyi ‘Missio Siculica’ kezdetei az 1650-es években,” in Antal Molnár, Lehetetlen küldetés: Jezsuiták Erdélyben és FelsĘ-Magyarországon a 16–17. században, (Budapest: L’Harmattan, 2009), 195-211. 8 János Heltai, “A 16–17. századi magyarországi hitviták adattárának tervezete,” in „Tenger az igaz hitrül való egyenetlenségek vitatásának eláradott özöne…”: Tanulmányok XVI–XIX. századi hitvitáinkról, ed. János Heltai and Réka Tasi (Miskolc: Miskolci Egyetem BTK Régi Magyar Irodalomtörténeti Tanszék, 2005), 251-299; JenĘ Zoványi, “Sámbár Mátyás és Kis Imre hitvitái s az ezekkel egyidejĦ hitvitázó mĦvek,” Theologiai Szemle 1, no. 1 (1925): 264-271; JenĘ Zoványi, “Szóbeli hitviták Sárospatakon és Kassán,” Theologiai Szemle 9, no. 12 (1933/34): 139-148. Recently: Judit P. Vásárhelyi, ed., Régi Magyarországi Nyomtatványok, IV, 1656–1670 (Budapest: Akadémiai–Országos Széchényi Könyvtár, 2012), further referred to as RMNy. 9 Mátyás Sámbár, Három idvösséges kérdés. Elsö: A lutteránosok és cálvinisták igaz hitben vadnake? Masodik: Csak az egy pápista hité igaz? Harmadik: A’ pápisták ellenkézneké a’ Sz. Irással, avagy inkáb a’ lutterek és cálvinisták? (Nagyszombat/ Trnava, 1661), RMNy 2997.

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Sambar’s Three Questions of Salvation naturally fell into three parts. The first part argued against the Protestants’ claim of antiquity in order to prove that theirs was not the true faith. (The question posed in the first part was: Are Lutherans and Calvinists in the true faith?) Using the symbolism of the patristic tradition, the author described the church as “the column of truth,” “the body of Christ,” and “the bride of Christ.”10 The question of visibility was also addressed and the Protestant interpretation thereof refuted. The purpose of the second part was to demonstrate the truth of the Catholic Church. (Is the popish faith the only true one?) The two introductory paragraphs of this part contain the key argument of the whole work: In the first step, Sambar attempts to show that the true church is endowed with a clearly recognizable attribute by which it can be infallibly identified. This attribute is then more closely specified in the second step where the author reveals its origin in the Book of Isaiah (2:2). The central concept of Sambar’s polemic, the metaphor of the mountain, is thus based on an Old Testament allegory: Scripture says: It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above all the hills, and all the nations shall flow to it. This is summed up by the holy Apostles in the Creed by the single word catholica, meaning that Christ’s church is universal. Only the Roman Papists’ church has the privilege to call itself the House of the Lord, built on the top of a mountain.11

This passage stands out in the text both on account of its structure and because of its typographical layout. It was intended to demonstrate that the Catholic Church was the pre-eminent and eternal mountain of the house of the Lord. This image was very suitably chosen since it both illustrated the catholicity of the Roman Church and highlighted its visible character. The Jesuit author depicted the mountain as indestructible, rising up, fending off assaults, and growing stronger in spite of the polemical attacks against it. Why did Sambar use the mountain metaphor in his text? Did the Jesuit missionary have any specific reason for choosing this particular image 10

Kurt Ruh, A nyugati misztika története I: A patrisztikus alapok és a 12. század szerzetesi teológiája, trans. Tibor Görföl (Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 2006), 279-299. 11 Sámbár, Három, 26-27: “Szent Írás így ír: Az utolsó napokban elkészíttetik az Úr Háza Hegye, az hegyek tetején, és felemeltetik az halmok fölibe, és ahhoz folyamodnak minden nemzetségek. Mely Igék summáját a Crédóban az Szent Apostolok csak egy szóval jelentették mondván, hogy CATHOLICA az az: KÖZÖNSÉGES a Krisztus igaz Eklézsiája. Hogy pediglen az az Úr Háza, az hegyek tetején való és Catholica Eklézsia, nem más a Római Pápista Eklézsián kívül.”

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from among those that had been employed in traditional polemical discourse concerning the true church? Was it perhaps in any way associated with the population of Hugaria Superior? If so, could this metaphor itself be the spark that kindled the Protestant-Catholic polemic which arose from the Three questions of Salvation and lasted for over a decade? If we want a proper understanding of Sambar’s use of this metaphor of the mountain, we must first clarify the communication objectives of his text. It is important to remember that the book represented the main literary achievement of the Jesuits in the early phase of their missionary activity in Hungaria Superior. Sambar’s task was to bring these areas, populated predominantly by Lutherans and Calvinists, into the fold of the Roman Catholic Church. This had to be accomplished with the support of the local political representatives and aristocracy. Therefore, it was necessary to base the arguments not on an abstract idea but on a concrete image which would be easy to grasp. It was not without reason that the symbol of the mountain was central to Sambar’s argumentation. Firstly, a mountain, on account of its solid permanence, fittingly represented the visibility of the church. Secondly, as Mircea Eliade has pointed out, the mountain had, since antiquity, been conceived of as a sacred and transcendent place where God’s majesty might be revealed and experienced.12 The mountain is one of the symbols associated with the thinking of the homo religiosus (religious person).13 In Judeo-Christian thought the mountain was often conceived of as a locus of deep religious experience for people of faith. For Jews, Horeb and Zion were the “mountains of God,” the places chosen by the Lord and filled with his grace. In the New Testament, Nazareth Hill and the Mount of Olives are also named as mountains where God’s grace is experienced. Closely connected with the notion of the sacred mountain are the symbols of the rock and the cliff which respectively represent the safety and strength of the faith relying on Holy Scripture. These biblical symbols helped to shape the character of early Christian communities and their spirituality. They were also fundamental to the earliest origins of monasticism, which is perhaps best illustrated by the monasteries of Monte Cassino in Italy and Mount Athos in Greece, the latter being also referred to as “the Holy Mountain.”14 Sambar’s image of the mountain not only 12

Mircea Eliade, A szent és a profán: A vallási lényegrĘl [The sacred and the profane: the nature of religion], trans. Gábor Berényi (Budapest: Európa, 1987), 30-33. 13 Cf. Julien Ries, A szent antropológiája: A Homo religiosus eredete és problémája, trans. Anikó Krivácsi (Budapest: Typotex, 2003). 14 Mary W. Helms, “Sacred Landscape and the Early Medieval European Cloister: Unity, Paradise, and the Cosmic Mountain,” Anthropos 97, no. 2 (2002): 435-453.

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sustains the notions of visibility and catholicity but it also reinforces another important attribute of the church, its sacramentality. For Sambar, perhaps the most important reason for employing the mountain metaphor was the specific social situation of the location in which the Jesuits were implementing their mission. Matthias Sambar, as an experienced missionary, knew how best to achieve the goals of his Society. It can be assumed that he intended his book to speak to its Protestant readers in the most direct way. As such, the author had to consider the particularities of the region and the mentality of the local communities. During the sixteenth to seventeenth centuries, many of those living in the towns of Hungaria Superior identified themselves with or belonged to the mining profession, for these towns had enjoyed mining privileges since the Middle Ages. In the city of Košice the central financial office, the Camera Scepusiensis, was responsible, among other things, for administering revenues from mining. The Church of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin in RožĖava, now the Cathedral of the RožĖava Diocese, is famous for its unique work of art connected with urban mining culture—namely, the oil painting called the Metercia of RožĖava, or The Virgin and Child with Saint Anne, dating from 1513.15 This painting, depicting St Anne, the patron saint of the mining profession, captures a scene of miners performing various mining operations. It is an eloquent illustration of how strong the mining tradition was in this region, and it demonstrates the powerful influence exerted by this profession on local culture.16 Matthias Sambar aimed to convey to his readers the main tenets of Catholic doctrine through symbols familiar to the local population. For this, the symbol of the mountain was indeed the best possible. During the ten-year period of the Protestant-Catholic controversy of Hungaria Superior, seventeen polemical treatises were produced, which in itself is sufficient to show that Sambar’s communication strategy was felicitously chosen. Foremost among his antagonists were István Matkó

15

István Batta, “Középkori bányászatunk és kohászatunk a Metercián,” Bányászati és Kohászati Lapok, Bányászat 123, no. 9-10 (1990): 617-627; István Batta, “A rozsnyói Metercia,” Gömörország: az északi magyar peremvidék fóruma 3, no. 2 (2002): 37-46. 16 István Bitskey, “Az identitástudat formái a kora újkor Kárpát-medencében,” in Humanizmus, religio, identitástudat: Tanulmányok a kora újkori Magyarország mĦvelĘdéstörténetérĘl, ed. István Bitskey and Gergely Tamás Fazakas (Debrecen: DEENK Kossuth Egyetemi Kiadója, 2007), 11-23.

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(1625–1693),17 preacher in Baia Sprie (FelsĘbánya), János Pósaházi (d. 1686),18 professor of philosophy at Sárospatak, and István Czeglédi (1620–1671), pastor in Košice.19 Their rebuttals of the Three questions of Salvation made it clear from the outset that they were completely unwilling to accept the depiction of the Catholic Church as a holy mountain. For example, in his first polemic entitled Fövenyen épített ház romlása (The fall of the house built on sand),20 Matkó undercut the mountain imagery and instead argued that the Catholic Church was built on sand, the complete opposite of a mountain. The sand metaphor which permeated his entire text was clearly a response to Sambar’s mountain imagery, a concept he was determined to deride. Matkó chastised his opponent: “Sambar just doesn’t seem to calm down; on the contrary, he strives to place his popish church on a mountaintop.”21 And elsewhere: “Listen, Sambar, sir, there’s no portion for you on the holy mountain. Get back to the valley!”22 Matkó repeatedly ridiculed Sambar in his refutation, comparing him to a bull desperately trying to climb the mountain (of the church), but slipping back all the time. Sambar retaliated by calling Matkó a “false miner” whose words contained no gold (that is, had no value), thereby insinuating that he was incompetent in his own (theological) craft. Matkó did not reject the role assigned to him by Sambar but followed it with another rebuttal, Banyasz csakany (The miner’s mattock).23 This was 17

János Herepei, “MĦvelĘdési törekvések a század második felében,” in Adattár XVII. századi szellemi mozgalmaink történetéhez, III, ed. Bálint Keserü (Budapest– Szeged: Kossuth Ny., 1971), 97-100. 18 ErnĘ Makkai, Pósaházi János élete és filozófiája, Acta Philosophica 3 (Kolozsvár: Universitas Francisco-Josephina, 1942). 19 István M. Nagy, Czeglédi István polemikus író a XVII. században, (Kolozsvár/Cluj: Ny. Gombos Ferencz Könyvnyomdája, 1899). 20 István Matkó, Fövenyen épített ház romlása, avagy három kérdések körül gĘgösen futkározó Sámbár Mátyás jezsuita ina szakadása. Melyben világosan megbizonyíttatik a Szent Irásból, I. Hogy a pápista vallás nem igaz vallás, II. Hogy csak az egy apostoli vallás igaz, mellyet a kálvinisták álhatatosan vallanak. III. Hogy a pápisták ellenkeznek a Sz. írással és a régi római vallással, nem a Kálvinisták. Kézdi Vásárhelyi Matko István, FelsĘ-Bányai eklézsiának együgyĦ tanítója által (Szeben/Sibiu, 1666), RMNy 3323. 21 Matkó, Fövenyen, 44: “Nem nyughatik Sámbár, hanem ugyan hegyek tetejére akarja biggyeszteni a pápista eklézsiát.” 22 Matkó, Fövenyen, 41: “Látod-é Sámbár uram, hogy nincsen a szent hegyen semmi portiod. Takarodjál hát a völgybe!” 23 István Matkó, X, ut tök könyvnek el-tépése, avagy Banyasz csakany, melylyel amaz fövenyen épitetett s-már leromlott házát, elébbi fövenyre sikeretlen sarral raggatni akaró és 1000. mocskokkal eszelössen szinlö s-mázló Sambar Mattyas

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written on behalf of the entire mining community of Baia Sprie where he was pastor. In it, he showed miners digging with their mattocks into a mountain of mud and straw kneaded together by Matthias Sambar. The role of a miner assigned to him by Sambar gave Matkó an opportunity to address the citizens of the mining towns of Hungaria Superior in a very personal manner and speak to them in a language they understood very well, while at the same time enabling him to identify himself with the community of which he was spiritual minister. Miners were almost treated as heroes in Matkó’s polemical fiction, and the author encouraged them saying: “Miners, what does he deserve who deceives people so industriously? [He deserves to be hit by a] mattock;”24 “Hit him, miners, with your mattocks so that the old Jesuit may learn some prudence in his old age.”25 Matkó was very explicit in stating that “the miners are endowed with much more humanity than the Jesuits!”26 And to complete the mockery, the book’s title page was decorated with a woodcut which shows two miners hitting Sambar with their mattocks while the Jesuit is modelling mud balls in his hands (see Fig. 4-1). The symbol of the mountain was also the point of departure for the polemical writings of János Pósaházi (d. 1686) who issued several refutations of Sambar. His style grew more and more aggressive during the course of the controversy, and his theological argumentation assumed a personal, abusive, sarcastic tone, so much so that it resembled a satire rather than a theological dispute. Pósaházi not only called Sambar a bull or a donkey in his text27 published in 1666 but, resourcefully taking inspiration from Aristotle’s De Historia Animalium28 and the medieval Bestiarium, referred to him as a Bonasus bestia.29 In Pósaházi’s satirical acnevü tudatla(n) sár gyúró meg-csákányoztatik Kezdi Vasarhellyi Matko Istvan mostan zilahi eecclésiának együgyü lelki pásztora által, ki Sambartol bányásznak neveztetett (Patak, 1668), RMNy 3481. 24 Matkó, X, ut tök, 12: “Bányászok, vajon mit érdemel, aki ilyen szaporán hazud? Bányász csákányt.” 25 Ibid., 9: “Vesd rá Bányász a csákányt, tanuljon akár csak vénségében már a vén Jezsuita okosságot.” 26 Ibid., fol. 3v (preliminary): “Sokkal is több emberséget tudnak a bányászok a jezsuitáknál.” 27 János Pósaházi, A’ három kérdesre-valo summás válasz-tételnek egy arra lött alkalmatlan felelettel való nagyob megerössödese es azon feleletnek megrázogatása (Patak, 1666), RMNy 3310. 28 “Aristoteles, Lib. 9. de Hist. Animal. Capite 45.” Pósaházi, A’ három kérdesrevalo,17. 29 Christian Heck and Rémy Cordonnier, eds., The Grand Medieval Bestiary: The Animal in Illuminated Manuscripts (New York: Abbeville Press, 2012), 172.

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count, Sambar was depicted as a brute grazing on the ancient Messapius mons, which was meant to be the antithesis of the Holy Mountain of the Catholic Church, and the Jesuit monk was illustrated as a beast with a head like a bull, which expels its dung when being pursued, attacks and butts people. The image of the Bonasus bestia might be understood at two levels: it mocked not only the Catholic doctrine and Sambar’s metaphor of the mountain, but it also lampooned the black-robed Jesuit. Further research would probably uncover even more semantic connotations in the parody contained in these writings, especially if their dialogical character and intertextuality is taken into account; this, however, lies beyond the scope of this essay. Finally, we may ask what role polemical writings played in late seventeenth-century Hungaria Superior. It is clear that they were incapable of bringing forth anything new in the field of theology or dogmatics. As can be expected, the authors gradually departed more and more from a style appropriate for a theological debate. The polemicists adopted a biased, quick-tempered, and abusive stance, not even shrinking from composing derisive poems. The texts show very clearly how important this confessional dispute was for both the Protestants and the Catholics of Hungaria Superior. The authors utilized the rhetorical devices which could most convincingly convey their views; instead of using abstract theological arguments, they addressed the common folk and urban citizens in a register and lexicon with which they could engage. In this region the local mining culture with which so many identified was the most effective vehicle through which to channel their polemical discourse. Sambar formulated his ecclesiological argument according to the language and priorities of his missionary area. The Protestants followed his line of argumentation, basing their response on the same mining tradition which had for centuries shaped the identity and mode of communication of the local population. The brief period marked off by the years in which the polemics of Hungaria Superior were conducted was one of religious freedom and intellectual competition. However, it was followed by a phase of anti-Protestant repressions in the 1670s because of further political changes in the Hungarian Kingdom.

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Fig. 4-1 István Matkó’s Banyasz Csakany, title page, RMK I. 1072. Photo courtesy of the National Széchényi Library, Budapest.

CHAPTER FIVE KIRCHENBILD UND PROPHETENROLLE IM POLEMISCHEN WERK VON ISTVÁN CZEGLÉDI AUS DEM JAHR 1659 ZSOMBOR MARTIS

Aus den zahlreichen kontroverstheologischen Fragen im Rahmen der Glaubensstreite des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts müssen wir die Frage nach der Reflexion über die Kirche (Ekklesiologie) hervorheben. In der katholischen Theologie kommen der Kirche vier Attribute zu: una (Einheit), sancta (Heiligkeit), catholica (Universalität) und apostolica (Apostolizität).1 Zur Zeit der theologischen Diskurse der Frühen Neuzeit waren es Roberto Bellarmino (1542–1621), Francisco Suárez (1548–1617), Gregorius de Valencia (1550–1603) und Thomas Stapleton (1535–1598), die gegenüber den protestantischen Konfessionen auf Basis der Werke der bedeutendsten Kirchenväter Argumente für die Beweisbarkeit der wahren katholischen Kirche ausarbeiteten. Einer der wichtigsten Punkte der Polemik war, das Alter und die apostolische Sukzession der Lehre Christi zu beweisen. Nach Muster der europäischen geistigen Bewegungen wurden diese Fragen in Ungarn nach der Verbreitung der Reformation in der Frühen Neuzeit auch in den ungarischen Streitschriften diskutiert. Die diesbezüglichen theologischen Argumente der katholischen Kirche fasste der Erzbischof von Esztergom, Peter Pázmány (1570–1637), in seinen ungarischsprachigen Werken in der ersten Hälfte des 17. Jahrhunderts zusammen.2 Zu seinen wichtigsten Diskussionspartnern gehörten evangelische und 1

Ferenc Szabó, SJ, Krisztus és egyháza Pázmány Péter életmĦvében (Budapest: Jezsuita Rend Magyarországi Rendtartománya/L’Harmattan, 2012), 342-358. 2 Pázmány formuliert eine der Grundfragen der Diskussionen in seinem gegen István Magyari geschriebenen Werk Felelet (Antwort) aus dem Jahr 1603: „Istennek Ecclésiája mindenkor megmarad. Kellemés bizonyság. Tudgyuk, hogy az megmarad: de azt akarjuk tunni, ha az ti vallástok mindenkor megmaradté? És

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kalvinistische Geistliche, u.a. István Magyari (?–1605), Péter Alvinczi (1570–1634), István Milotai Nyilas (1571–1523) und Péter Pécsváradi (?– 1645). So können wir die Jahre 1610–1620 als eine der fruchtbringendsten Perioden der ungarischen Glaubensstreite betrachten. Nach einigen ruhigen Jahrzehnten entwickelten sich aber in den 1650–60er Jahren auf dem Gebiet des Ungarischen Königreichs eine politische Situation und eine Konfessionslage, die die Diskussion über die Kirchenlehre (Ekklesiologie) zwischen den protestantischen Konfessionen und der katholischen Kirche wieder verschärft hatte. Der Grund dafür war der 1645 geschlossene Linzer Friede. Im Sinne dieses Friedensvertrags wurde in den einst evangelischen oberungarischen Städten, so auch in Kaschau (Košice), den Protestanten und Katholiken Religionsfreiheit gewährt.3 In der Stadt Kaschau enstand die unabhängige reformierte Gemeinde in den 1650er Jahren und organisierte sich institutionell. Zur gleichen Zeit begann auch die öffentliche katholische Religionsausübung, woraufhin beide Konfessionen Schulen gründeten. Der Leiter der reformierten Kirche von Kaschau war zwischen 1653 und 1671 István Czeglédi (1619–1671), in dessen Verantwortung die Ordnung des Schul- und des religiösen Lebens lag. In meinem Aufsatz möchte ich durch die Analyse des Werks A meghtert bünösnek a lelki-hartzban valo bai-vivasarol irt könyvnek elsö resze (deutsch: Erster Teil des Buches über den seelischen Kampf des bekehrten Schuldigen)4 des Kaschauer reformierten Pastors István Czeglédi, herausmivelhogy azt mondgyátok, hogy megmaradt: azt kívánnyuk, hogy 1517. esztendeig csak egy embert mutassatok, az Apostolok-után, az ki veletek egyet vallott vólna.“ („Gottes Ekklesiologie bleibt für immer erhalten. Angenehme Gewissheit. Wir wissen, dass sie erhalten bleibt: Aber wir wollen wissen, ob Eure Religion für immer erhalten bleibt? Und da Ihr sagt, sie bleibt erhalten: wir wünschen, dass Ihr bis zum Jahr 1517 nur einen Menschen aufzeigt, nach den Aposteln, der auf Eurer Seite gewesen wäre.“) Péter Pázmány, Összes munkái, (Budapest: Magyar Királyi Tudomány-Egyetem nyomdája, 1894), 41. Noch zu dieser Frage: Nicolao ėry, Doctrina Petri Cardinalis Pázmány de notis Ecclesiae, dissertatio ad Lauream in Facilitate Theologica Pontificae Universitatis Gregorianae (Cherii/Chieri: Editrice “Fiamma del S. Cuore”, 1952); Nicolaus Oery, Suárez und Pázmány Berührungspunkte in der Ekklesiologie (Bilbao: Universidad de Deusto, 1978). 3 Kálmán Révész, Százéves küzdelem a kassai református egyház megalakulásáért: 1550–1650 (Budapest: Hornyánszky Viktor Könyvnyomdája, 1894). 4 István Czeglédi, A megh-tert bünösnek a lelki-hartzban valo bai-vivasarol irt konyvnek elsö resze (Kassa/Košice: Severinus, 1659); Judit P. Vásárhelyi, ed., Régi Magyarországi Nyomtatványok, IV, 1656–1670 (Budapest: Akadémiai–Országos Széchényi Könyvtár, 2012), 2829; Ján ýaploviþ, Bibliografia tlaþí vydaných na Slovensku do roku 1700 (Martin: Matica slovenská, 1972), 562.

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gegeben im Jahre 1659, darlegen, wie Czeglédi gegenüber den damals starken katholischen Bekehrungen und ihrem Hauptargument, dass die katholische Kirche ihre Anfänge auf den Apostel Petrus zurückführt, das Alter der reformierten Kirche nach der Tradition der Bibelexegese beweist und die Ergebnisse dieser Beweisführung seiner Gemeinde weitergibt. Czeglédis Werk, das insgesamt aus 562 Blättern besteht, können wir in drei Teile aufteilen: Die erste Einheit ist A lelki csatához való készületrĘl (Über die Vorbereitung auf den seelischen Kampf), 63 Blätter; die zweite Einheit ist Az igaz anyaszentegyházról és annak tagjainak tiszta vallásáról (Über die eine heilige Kirche und den wahren Glauben ihrer Mitglieder), 232 Blätter; die dritte Einheit ist Az örök idvességnek arany láncszemeirĘl, úgymint az elválasztásról, elhivásról, megigazításról, megszenteltetésrĘl (Über die goldenen Kettenglieder der ewigen Seligkeit, über die Trennung, das Aufgebot, die Richtung und die Heiligkeit), 267 Blätter. Czeglédis Buch zeigt uns in Dialogform den seelischen Kampf der protestantischen Gläubigen mit den Versuchungen des Satans, die in erster Linie durch die Bekehrungen der Jesuiten dargestellt werden. Alle drei Teile stellen durch die Schilderung des Wettkampfes zwischen dem Versucher und dem Kämpfer ein Vorbild für die Kirchengemeinde dar und dienen dazu, den reformierten Gläubigen im seelischen Kampf gegen die katholischen Lehren zu helfen. Das Werk gehört zur Gattung der Andachtsbücher, ist aber stark mit polemischen Teilen durchwoben. Wie wir schon erwähnt haben, beschäftigt sich Czeglédi im zweiten Teil seines Buches ausführlich mit der Ekklesiologie. Der Kämpfer, der die protestantischen Gläubigen symbolisiert, stellt uns die Kennzeichen der wahren (protestantischen) Ekklesiologie gegenüber den bereits am Anfang meines Beitrags erwähnten Attributen der katholischen Kirche vor: In der wahren Kirche (1.) wird das Wort Gottes rein verkündet, (2.) werden die heiligen Sakramente richtig, rechtmäßig gereicht, (3.) steht die Verehrung Gottes an erster Stelle.5 Das letzte, dritte Kennzeichen verweist schon auf die Verhältnisse in Kaschau, denn in den grundlegenden protestantischen Glaubensbekenntnissen werden nur die ersten zwei Kennzeichen betont.6 Czeglédi wollte hier den 5

Czeglédi, A megh-tert bünösnek, 65-66. David Pareus (1548–1622) war Professor an der theologischen Fakultät der Universität Heidelberg und Schüler von Zakarias Ursinus (1534–1583), einem Herausgeber des Heidelberger Katechismus. Pareus, eine der wichtigsten Autoritäten der kalvinistischen Orthodoxie Anfang des 17. Jahrhunderts, definiert die Kennzeichen der wahren Kirche als mit den Lehren des Zweiten Helvetischen Glaubensbekenntnisses identisch: „Ecclesia vocatorum ibi agnoscitur esse vera, ubi doctrina Prophetarum et Apostolorum syncere praedicatur, et sacramenta secundum institutionem divinam legitime dispensantur: hae igitur sunt notae verae ecclesiae.“ De 6

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Äußerlichkeiten der Jesuitenbekehrungen entgegensetzen. Nach dem Aufzählen der Kennzeichen bemerkt er, dass der einzige Maßstab nur die Heilige Schrift sein kann.7 Danach führt er die Zeichen der wahren religio auf: Die wahre Religion (1.) ist von Gott geschaffen, denn jeder perfekte Segen kommt von oben, (2.) ist eine, denn es gibt nur eine Kirche, (3.) ist notwendig zur Seligkeit, (4.) finden wir nicht in den Äußerlichkeiten, sondern im inneren Glauben, (5.) ist sehr alt, nämlich auf die Zeit im Paradies zurückzuführen, (6.) ist die allein seligmachende Religion, (7.) ist perfekt und frei von Mängeln, sie braucht nur Gott.8 Auf Punkt 5, also auf die Zeit im Paradies, komme ich noch zurück. Der Kämpfer liefert uns nach der Aufzählung der Kennzeichen der allein seligmachenden Gemeinde und der religio eine Zusammenfassung der reformierten Lehren über Gott, Jesus Christus, den Heiligen Geist, die Heilige Dreifaltigkeit, die heiligen Sakramente, die heilige Kirche und das Jüngste Gericht. Wie sich aus der Beschreibung feststellen lässt, schrieb der Kaschauer Pastor ein Handbuch, das von praktischem Nutzen sein möge und sich mehreren Gattungen zuordnen lässt, da es Andachtsbücher, Gebete, Katechismen und polemische Teile gleichermaßen enthält. So konnte sein Buch den Ansprüchen eines breiteren Publikums gerecht werden. Mit seiner Arbeit suchte er den Glauben der reformierten Gläubigen zu stärken und mit einer bestimmten Bekehrungsabsicht sprach er auch die in ihrem Glauben unsicher gewordenen Katholiken an. Sein höchstes Ziel war aber, die reformierte Kirchengemeinde von Kaschau gegen die Jesuitenbekehrungen zu schützen. Von den Kennzeichen der (wahren) Religion müssen wir das Alter hervorheben, das ein Zeichen der wahren Religion ist. Durch die Schilderung des seelischen Kampfes zwischen dem Kämpfer und dem Versucher beantwortet Czeglédi die Frage, wo es die protestantische Kirche vor 1517 gab. Die Antwort des Kämpfers beginnt wie folgt: Versucher! Meine Religion ist nicht zweihundert Jahre alt, denn seitdem die Welt geschaffen wurde, vergingen fünftausendsechshundertdreiundzwanzig Jahre, dieser Zeitraum besteht also aus sechsundfünfzig Jahrhunderten. 9 ecclesia eiusque notis. Respondente Petro Kisdopsai Ungaro. 18. Novemb. 1615., in David Pareus, Collegiorum theologicorum, quibus universa theologia orthodoxa . . . explicatur, pars altera (Heidelbergae/Heidelberg, 1620), 256, RMK III. 6089. 7 Czeglédi, A megh-tert bünösnek, 67: „Ezeket a jeleket, ha nem tudom miképpen tulajdonítaná magának, akár mely ecclésia is, de cselekedetit az Írásra kel vonni, mert az az igasság serpenyüje.“ 8 Ibid., 67-70. 9 Ibid., 88: „KisértĘ! Nem két száz esztendeje az én vallásomnak, mert miolta é vi-

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Dementsprechend stellt der Kämpfer mit Hilfe mehrerer alttestamentarischer Erzählungen dar, in welchem Zustand sich die Kirche von Anfang der Welt bis zur Gegenwart befunden hat. In seiner Argumentation ist die protestantische Gesinnung ecclesia invisibilis, womit er dem Begriff der unsichtbaren Kirche entsprechend die Kirche als geistlicher Bund der Gläubigen erklärt, der unabhängig von Raum und Zeit besteht. Während die Katholiken als historisches Argument die Sichtbarkeit der Kirche (ecclesia visibilis) betonten, formulierte Czeglédi seine Gegenargumente mit feiner Ironie: Im Credo bekenne ich das so, Versucher! Ich glaube an die heilige christliche Kirche; und ich glaube nicht deshalb daran, weil ich sie sehen kann.10

Mit Hilfe zahlreicher Erzählungen aus dem Alten Testament beschreibt der Kaschauer Pastor, welche Wechselfälle (z.B. der Krieg und die Pest in Siebenbürgen im Jahr 1657)11 und Nöte die Kirche Gottes erleiden musste. Durch die allegorisierende Interpretation der biblischen Beispiele stimmen bei Czeglédi die Geschehnisse seiner Zeit mit den Erzählungen aus dem Alten Testament überein.12 Der Leser kann in den biblischen Urbildern den geistigen Zustand und das Schicksal der Kaschauer Kirchengemeinschaft erkennen. Die dichte, auf biblischer Typologie beruhende Erzählung von Czeglédi ermöglicht den Rezipienten, die Geschehnisse ihrer Zeit mit dem im Alten Testament beschriebenen Schicksal der Kirche zu erklären. Aus dieser biblischen Typologie entfaltet sich dann das Alter und die Geschichte der wahren Kirche. lágh teremtetet, számlálunk öt ezer, hat száz huszonharmadik esztendĘt, abban az idĘi summában, ötvenhat seculum vagyon, az az, ötvenhat száz esztendö vagyo[n].“ Vor dem ungarischen Protestantismus, bereits im 16. Jahrhundert, war die Wittenberger Geschichtsanschauung bekannt, die die Weltgeschichte in drei Epochen aufteilt: 2000 Jahre vor dem Gesetz, 2000 Jahre unter dem Gesetz, und 2000 Jahre nach Christus. Darüber schreiben István Székely (Chronica ez Vilagnac Yeles dolgairol. SZEKEL ESTVAN. Craccoba Niomtatot. Striykouiai Lazar Altal, 1559) und András Dézsi (Világ kezdetitül lött dolgokról [1549] in Régi Magyar KöltĘk Tára XVI/5 [Budapest, 1886], 7–20) in ihren Büchern in ungarischer Sprache. Czeglédi denkt in dieser Zeitrechnung, gibt aber seine konkrete philologische Quelle nicht an. 10 Czeglédi, A megh-tert bünösnek, 107: „Úgy vallom a Credoban, kisértĘ! Hiszem a közönséges Anyaszentegyházat; nem úgy teszek felĘle vallást: hogy látom.“ 11 Diarmaid MacCulloch, Reformation: Europe’s House Divided 1490-1700 (London: Allen Lane, 2003), 447-448. 12 G. W. H. Lampe, “The Reasonableness of Typology,” in Essays on Typology, ed. G.W. H. Lampe and K. J. Woollcombe (London: S CM Press, 1957), 9-38.

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Demnach ist die Kirche (gegenüber der katholischen Auffassung) kein weltliches Institut, sondern ein geistlicher Bund, eine geistliche Gemeinschaft der wahren Gläubigen. Das Werk stellt durch den Dialog des Versuchers und des Kämpfers diesen ewigen seelischen Kampf dar, der bereits seit der Zeit von Adam und Eva existiert. Der von polemischen Inhalten durchwobene Text beschreibt, wie es bereits im Titel betont wird (A megh-tert bünösnek a lelki-hartzban valo bai-vivasarol, deutsch: Über den seelischen Kampf des bekehrten Schuldigen), den seelischen Triumph, der Zweifel, Verzagtheit und Verunsicherung bekämpft. Im Buch wird der Kampf oft durch Gebete unterbrochen, welche eine Art seelische Stütze im Kampf gegen den Versucher sind. In diesen Gebeten stellt Czeglédi die Kirche als Teil des theologischen Diskurses mit zahlreichen biblischen Motiven dar (z.B. Taube, Leib Christi). Im letzten Gebet des zweiten Buchteils finden wir eines der Hauptmotive der theologischen Argumentation des Predigers, wo das Symbol der Kirche in den Schiffskatalogen der Kirchenväter erscheint. Bekannterweise wird die Kirche in den frühchristlichen Beschreibungen oft als Schiff dargestellt. Auch Peter Pázmány verwendet dieses Symbol oft in seinen Werken.13 In seiner Monografie Symbole der Kirche: Die Ekklesiologie der Väter erläutert Hugo Rahner ausführlich die Schiffsymbolik der Theologie der Kirchenväter. Hippolyt von Rom verwendet sie beispielsweise folgendermaßen: die Welt ist das Meer, die Kirche ist das Schiff, Christus ist der Steuermann, der Bug und das Heck symbolisieren Ost und West, der Anker ist ein Symbol für das Gesetz Christi und die Toppsegel symbolisieren die Ordnungen der Propheten, der Märtyrer und der Apostel.14 In einem Gebet seines Buches knüpft Czeglédi an diese frühchristliche Tradition an und stellt Jesus als Steuermann dar. Der geistige Kämpfer betet, Jesus Christus möge sein Boot auf dem gefährlichen Meer der Welt steuern: Sei in ihm der erfahrene Steuermann Du, mein Jesus, der Du unter den Felsen und Erschwernissen auch mich in die Richtung der göttlichen Heimat im Himmelreich steuern kannst.15

13 István Bitskey, “Ekkléziológia és retorika Pázmány Péter mĦveiben,” Irodalomtörténeti Közlemények 104, no. 104 (2000): 294-310. 14 Hugo Rahner, Symbole der Kirche: Die Ekklesiologie der Kirchenväter (Salzburg: Otto Müller Verlag, 1964), 307-308. 15 Czeglédi, A megh-tert bünösnek, 290: „Te légy édes Christusom abban Kormányos Mester, ki bölcsen is igazgathass, a sok küsziklák és szövevények közöt, engemet is, ama mennyei haza felé.“

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Die Felsen im Zitat stehen für die Gefahr, die die Seeleute bedroht. Auch der geistige Kämpfer muss zahlreiche Versuchungen bekämpfen. Die geleimten Schiffsbalken symbolisieren den Seelenbund der Geister, die durch das Blut Christi voneinander getrennt wurden, dessen Regierung die Aufgabe bestimmter Seelenmeister ist, die ausschließlich das Gesetz Gottes verehren. Im Gebet des Kämpfers ist das Segel ein Symbol für den Glauben, im heiligen Wind erkennt man das Zeichen des Heiligen Geistes, und der Anker ist das Symbol für die Liebe Christi. Auf der Fahne „nem képpel, hanem szent cselekedettel vagyon az Úr Jézus kifeszítve“16 (wird unser Herr Jesus Christus nicht mit Bildern, sondern mit heiligen Taten dargestellt), und die „Magnetnadel“ (der Kompass)17 ist die göttliche Wissenschaft, die die Seele in den Himmel (in die ewige Seligkeit) bringt. Die Tür dieser „Arche“ bleibt vor den Feinden geschlossen; sie ist ähnlich wie Moses „kleiner Kasten“ oder Paulus’ Schiff, denn sowohl Mose als auch die Passagiere, die mit Paulus mitgefahren waren, wurden gerettet. So ist das Schiff die Gewähr für die Seligkeit. In einem anderen Gebet wird die heilige Kirche—„amely nem fövenyen építtetet, hanem erös küsziklán”18 (die nicht auf Sand, sondern auf festem Fels gebaut wurde)—als Mutter und Arche Noah, die Zuflucht vor der Sintflut bietet, dargestellt: Oh, meine geistige Mutter, der Ehre gebührt! Kein Mensch kommt ohne Mutter zur Welt, so kann niemand ohne dich die heilige Krone erreichen. Du bist die wahre Arche Noah, und ohne dich kann niemand in der Welt der geistigen Sintflut überleben.19

Die als starker Fels, der gegenüber der katholischen Argumentation den festen Glauben bedeutet, und als Mutter dargestellte Kirche verfügt über die Krone der Ehre. Die Geschichtlichkeit der wahren Kirche zeigt Czeglédi durch die Verwendung der bereits in den Werken der Kirchen-

16

Ibid., 292. Misia Sophia Doms, “Die ‘Wirklichkeit’ der Transzendenz: Überlegung zur Magnetbildlichkeit in der Leichabdankung Magnetische Verbindung des HErrn JESV / und der in Jhn verliebten Seelen von Andreas Gryphius,” Daphnis 38, no. 1-2 (2009): 9-37. 18 Czeglédi, A megh-tert bünösnek, 129. 19 Ibid.: „Oh édes lelki Anyám, mely nagy becsületre méltó vagy! Miként ember nem születtethetik Anya nélkül e világra, így nem mehet te nálad nélkül senki ama dicsösséges coronára. Te vagy a Noénak, amaz igaz bárkája ki nélkül is senki, megh nem tartathatik e lelki vízözöni világba.“ 17

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väter auftauchenden Schiffsmetaphorik auf.20 Mit der Darstellung der Kirche als Arche Noah verwendet der Kaschauer Prediger hier ein altchristliches ekklesiologisches Symbol. Denn in dieser Erzählung spielt die Arche (also die wahre Kirche), die die Lebewesen vor der Sintflut gerettet hatte, die wichtigste Rolle. Natürlich konnten Noah und seine Familie nur dadurch gerettet werden, dass sie dem Gesetz Gottes folgten, also ihren Glauben bewahrten. In Czeglédis Interpretation ist die Arche (die Arche Noah) das Vorbild für das Schiff (das Schiff des Petrus), und die reformierte Kirche ist, wie die Arche Noah, die Rettung für die Gemeinschaft. Bereits Rahner weist in seiner Monografie darauf hin, dass man die Arche Noah in den ekklesiologischen Deutungen und Auslegungen als Symbol für den Glauben, die Hoffnung und den Neuanfang interpretieren und als das Urbild für die Kirche Christi auffassen kann. Bereits im 4. Jahrhundert taucht die Beziehung zwischen dem Wasser, dem Kreuz und der Arche in den Lehren der Kirchenväter auf. In allen drei Symbolen verbergen sich die Befreiung vom Tod und das Versprechen auf das ewige Leben. Das Wasser ist das Symbol für das Abwaschen, für die Befreiung von Sünden, jene Befreiung, die der Gläubige durch die Taufe gewinnt. Das Blut und das Wasser aus der Seitenwunde Christi am Kreuz erlösen die Menschheit von Adams Sünde, der Ursünde. Der Schädel Adams findet sich deshalb in der christlichen Kunst häufig am Fuße von Kruzifixen. Das Blut also und das Wasser, die Jesus vergoss, reinigen die ganze Menschheit von Sünden. Die Arche hat ein besonderes Verhältnis sowohl zum Wasser, als auch zum Kreuz: Das Wasser und das Kreuz sind Symbole, die man sowohl mit dem Leben, als auch mit dem Tod verknüpfen kann. Das von Noah gebaute „Schiff“ ist in diesem Sinn ein Urbild für das Kreuz, das die Gläubigen vor dem Untergang rettet. In der altchristlichen Theologie aber war in Bezug auf die Erzählung von Noah nicht die Symbolik der Beziehung zwischen dem Kreuz und der Taufe am wichtigsten, sondern von Anfang an die Beziehung zwischen der Kirche und der Arche (dem Schiff). Wer in der Arche ist, bleibt am Leben, wer außerhalb der Arche ist, wird von der Sintflut und von den zahlreichen Sünden weggespült, geht also rettungslos verloren. Der geistige Lehrer der Kaschauer Gemeinde antwortete auf die in Werken katholischer Autoren auftauchende Frage, wo es die protestantische Kirche vor 1517 gab, durch die Interpretation des Alters der Kirche im weiteren Sinne, nämlich durch eine Neuinterpretation. So ist nicht die römische Religion „katholisch“ (allgemein), sondern die Kirche, die auf 20 Paul Gaechter, Petrus und seine Zeit: Neutestamentliche Studien (Innsbruck– Wien: Tyrolia, 1958).

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der wahren Religion beruht, die die Arche Noah symbolisert und die geschichtlich viel älter ist als die Kirche, die ihre Gründung auf den Apostel Petrus zurückführt. Die Analyse des Werkes Czeglédis hat gezeigt, dass er sich in seinem Werk aus dem Jahr 1659 als ein Hauptziel setzte, den Glauben der Reformierten mit Vorbildern aus dem Alten Testament zu stärken. Die Arche Noah und damit die Verwendung der Schiffssymbolik waren perfekt geeignet, die im Meer der katholischen Bekehrungen umhertreibende Kaschauer reformierte Gemeinde zu symbolisieren. Gleichzeitig waren sie geeignet, mit der in den Werken Pázmánys ebenso als Schiff dargestellten Kirchentheorie eine latente rhetorische Diskussion zu führen. Anfang des 17. Jahrhunderts dienten in Ungarn Pázmánys Werke als Grundlage der katholischen Kirchenlehre.21 Neben seinen theologischen Werken hielt er die symbolische Darstellung der Kirche auch in seinen Predigten für wichtig. In der bereits früher angeführten Studie von István Bitskey analysiert er ausführlich die Beziehung Pázmánys zu den altchristlichen Kirchenvätern, denn in seiner Predigt A Christus hajója, az igaz ecclesia, gyĘzhetetlen aus dem Jahr 1636 stellt sogar der Erzbischof von Esztergom die katholische Kirche im damals noch überwiegend protestantischen Land als ein Schiff dar.22 Czeglédi verwendet dieses Bild in seinem Werk aus dem Jahr 1659 wahrscheinlich sehr bewusst, diesmal als Darstellung der gegen die katholischen Bekehrungen kämpfenden protestantischen Kirche. Dieses ekklesiologische Vorbild, dass die Arche Noah der Kaschauer reformierten Gemeinde gleich sei, verwendete Czeglédi auch später im Zuge der Glaubensstreite der 1660er Jahre. Zur Zeit der hitzigen Glaubensstreite gegen die Jesuiten wurde im Jahre 1664 sein Buch IdĘs Noé becsületit oltalmazó Japhetke (deutsch: Japhet, der die Ehre des alten Noah verteidigt) herausgegeben.23 21 Péter Pázmány, Diatriba theologica: De visibili Christi in terris Ecclesia, adversus posthumum Guilielmi Witakeri librum contra Illustrissimum Cardinalem Bellarminum, (Graecii/Graz, 1605); Péter Pázmány, Isteni Igazsagra vezerloe Kalavz. Mellyet irt PAZMANY PETER Jesvitak rendin valo Tanito (Pozsony/Bratislava, 1613); Péter Pázmány, Az Sz. Irasrvl, es az Anyaszentegyhazrul, két roevid koenyvecskék. Mellyeket irt PAZMANY PETER Esztergami Ersek. Isai. cap. 35. v. 8. Ez lészen néktek ingyenes út, úgy hogy a’ bolondok el ne tévelyedgyenek azon (Bécs/ Wien, 1626). 22 István Bitskey, “Ekkléziológia és retorika Peter Pázmány mĦveiben,” Irodalomtörténeti Közlemények 104, no. 104 (2000): 294-310. 23 István Czeglédi, Idös Noe becsületit oltalmazo Japhet-ke, (Kassa/Košice: Vidua Severini, 1664); Judit P. Vásárhelyi, ed., Régi Magyarországi Nyomtatványok, IV,

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Den wichtigsten Punkt auch dieser Streite bildete die Frage nach dem Alter der Kirche. Genau dies ermöglichte Czeglédi, das frühere Kirchensymbol weitergedacht, in den Polemiken gegen die Jesuiten als Verteidiger des kalvinistischen Glaubens in der Rolle Noahs auftreten zu können. Czeglédi identifiziert sich in diesem Werk eindeutig mit der Person des alten Noah. Es stellt sich die Frage, welche Bedeutung dies hatte: Ende der 1650er Jahre beschreibt Czeglédi die Kirchengemeinde als eine im Meer der Versuchungen umhertreibende Arche, einige Jahre später betrachtet er sich selbst als Noah. Gemäß dieser Selbstinterpretation sei es ihm also gelungen, die Arche der Kaschauer reformierten Kirchengemeinde vor der Sintflut der Versuchungen zu retten. Sich selbst betrachtete er als einen Mann, der im Leben der protestantischen Gemeinde der Stadt die Rolle des Kirchengründers spielte. Diese prophetische Rollenkonvention verfügt ebenso über eine lange Tradition in der Geschichte der ungarischen protestantischen Kirche. In Ungarn, wo die Türkenbelagerung das Land in drei Teile gegliedert hatte, wurden die Fürsten des Fürstentums Siebenbürgen von den Predigern oft mit Königen aus dem Alten Testament identifiziert. Dieses Phänomen ist ein prägnantes Element der politischen Denkweisen der Reformation, wir nennen es protestantische Mythisierung.24 Ein wohlbekanntes Beispiel dafür ist die Mythisierung Gustav Adolfs, des „Löwen des Nordens“, die auf dem allgemeinen Biblizismus des deutschen Protestantismus bzw. auf den Stellen in der Bibel, wo Gott den Erlöser zu seinem Volk gesandt hatte, und auf dem diesbezüglichen Warten basierte.25 Zum Schluss können wir feststellen, dass sich Czeglédi den Streiten um die Kirchenlehre mit bereits von den Kirchenvätern verwendeten Symbolen angeschlossen hatte, und dies knüpfte stark an die prophetischen Traditionen in der Frühen Neuzeit an.

1656–1670 (Budapest: Akadémiai–Országos Széchényi Könyvtár, 2012), 3149; Ján ýaploviþ, Bibliografia tlaþí vydaných na Slovensku do roku 1700, 584. 24 Graeme Murdock, Calvinism on the Frontier 1600–1660: International Calvinism and the Reformed Church in Hungary and Transylvania (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), 243-249, 261-267. János Heltai, Alvinczi Péter és a heidelbergi peregrinusok (Budapest: Balassi Kiadó, 1994), 155-161. 25 Werner Milch, Gustav Adolf in der deutschen und schwedischen Literatur (Breslau/Wrocáaw: Verlag von M. & H. Marcus, repr. Hildesheim: Olms Verlag, 1977).

PART III: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY, CLASSICS, AND POETRY

CHAPTER SIX EXPLORING POLEMICAL THEOLOGY IN HUMANISM THROUGH A LITTLE-KNOWN TRACT ON THE EUCHARIST BY THE GREAT TUDOR HUMANIST, ROGER ASCHAM LUCY R NICHOLAS

It was in 1547 during Edward VI’s reign, the acme of Protestantism in England, and at a crucial juncture in the theological conflicts that would cleave Christendom, when Roger Ascham wrote a tract in Latin entitled the Apologia pro caena Dominica (The Defence of the Lord’s Supper against the Mass).1 This work, which arose out of a series of highly controversial debates about the Eucharist held at Cambridge University, forcefully attacked the Catholic Mass, its sacrifice, and priesthood; and argued instead for a more biblically-oriented version of the Eucharist. It is to the detriment of our historical understanding that this work has been so neglected, for the Apologia constitutes an excellent illustration of the way humanist classical scholarship could be harnessed to the cut and thrust of polemical theology. Before proceeding, a few words have to be said about this claim that humanism and theological polemic could overlap or even coalesce, for in historical accounts of this period, humanism is rarely considered to be either theological or polemical. A historiographical tradition, more entrenched perhaps in the English context than on the Continent, tends to separate Renaissance humanism from Protestant theology chronologically, 1

Apologia pro Caena Dominica contra Missam & eius praestigias (Excusum Londini/London: Pro Francisco Coldocko, 1577/78). For the translation and fuller assessment of the Apologia, see Lucy R Nicholas, A translation of Ascham’s Apologia pro Caena Dominica and contextual analysis (King’s College, London, PhD thesis, 2014).

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culturally, and intellectually. There is no time to review the details of this here, but a crucial factor in its development was the famous quarrel about free-will between Erasmus and Luther on the eve of the Reformation in which the former evinced his deep scepticism about the latter’s overly rigid doctrine, argued strife was unchristian, and eventually withdrew from the debate, claiming all he was doing was philology, not theology.2 As a consequence, humanism’s role in the Reformation is usually discussed in terms of broader religious considerations such as Christian piety, morality, and ethics rather than confessional conflict, and humanist modes of thought are usually associated with doubt, moderation, and conciliation in contrast to the zealous intransigence of Protestantism.3 2

Ernest G. Rupp and Philip S. Watson, eds., Luther and Erasmus: Free Will and Salvation (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1969); Erika Rummel, Erasmus (London–New York: Continuum, 2004), xiii, 20, and 82. 3 James K. McConica, English Humanists and Reformation Politics under Henry VIII and Edward VI (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965), especially chap. 8. Harry Porter concludes that reformers parted company with Erasmus where he parted company with Luther: Harry C. Porter, Reformation and Reaction in Tudor Cambridge (Cambridge University Press, 1958), 60. With direct reference to this quarrel, historians have highlighted the fundamental difference in anthropological outlook between humanists and Lutheran theologians, reasoning that the humanitas of the humanists—namely, the optimistic belief in the capacity of humans to improve their own lot—runs contrary to an Augustinian-inspired Protestantism which emphasized the sinful, helpless, and corrupt condition of mankind; for example, Geoffrey Elton, “Humanism in England,” in The Impact of Humanism on Western Europe, ed. Anthony Goodman and Angus Mackay (London: Longman, 1990), 272 and 277. Studies of humanism and its role during the Reformation tend to confine their discussions to the Erasmianism of Christian humanists: Lucy E. C. Wooding, Rethinking Catholicism (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2000); Margo Todd, Christian Humanism and the Puritan Social Order (Cambridge University Press, 1987); and Michael Pincombe, Elizabethan Humanism: Literature and Learning in the Later Sixteenth Century (Harlow: Longman, 2001). In Rummel’s review of humanism in Germany, in which she examines the ways in which humanism was affected by growing confessionalization, humanism is presented throughout as having to adapt and retreat and accommodate, rather than initiate and lead, and she dedicates an entire chapter to the humanist ars dubitandi (art of doubt): Erika Rummel, The Confessionalization of Humanism in Reformation Germany (Oxford University Press, 2000). There are some exceptions: Woolfson’s edited collection of essays points to the long life-span of Tudor humanism and argues that humanism could assume a distinctly religious character, asserting that it was, for example, perfectly possible to be both a humanist and a committed and uncompromising Protestant: Jonathan Woolfson, ed., Reassessing Tudor Humanism (Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002), introduction passim, and essays by Anne Overell (“Edwardian Court Humanism and Il Beneficio di Christo,

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This same tendency to divide humanists and theological reformers has shaped evaluations of the Apologia’s author, Ascham. Identified as a “mid-Tudor humanist,” Ascham has been assessed almost exclusively for his contributions to education, classical scholarship, and stylistic mastery. Whilst he is acknowledged to be broadly sympathetic to the evangelical cause, Ascham’s commitment to Protestantism has never been fully explored, and any attempt to do so has been made all the more challenging on account of the numerous studies which have focused on his values of courtesy and friendship, humanist careerism, and general avoidance of religious rancour.4 His theological works in Latin have either been sidelined or referred to in terms that better “fit” with the template of humanism: for example, Ryan, Ascham’s main modern biographer, suggested that the Apologia was nothing more than “an exhibition of his Latin wit and word-play.”5 It is the contention of this essay that core disciplines of humanism, such as history, classical literature, satire, Greek philology, and rhetoric, 1547–1553”) and John N. King (“John Foxe and Tudor Humanism”). In studies of humanism on the continent, there is not the same reluctance to link humanism to theological reform: Karin Maag, ed., Melanchthon in Europe: his work and influence beyond Wittenberg (Carlisle: Paternoster, 1999); John Schofield, Philip Melanchthon and the English Reformation (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), chap. 1-3; Lewis W. Spitz, “Humanism and the Protestant Reformation,” in Renaissance Humanism: Foundations, Forms, and Legacy, ed. Albert Rabil Jr. (Philadephia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1988), 381-411; chapters on Melanchthon by Sachiko Kusukawa and on Bucer by Ian P. Hazlett in David Bagchi and David C. Steinmetz, eds., The Cambridge Companion to Reformation Theology (Cambridge University Press, 2004); and Martin Greschat, Martin Bucer: A Reformer and His Times, trans. Stephen E. Buckwalter (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2004). 4 Lawrence K. Ryan, Roger Ascham (Stanford: Stanford University Press; London: Oxford University Press, 1963); Jennifer Richards, Rhetoric and Courtliness in Early Modern Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003); Michael Pincombe, Elizabethan Humanism: Literature and Learning in the Later Sixteenth Century (Harlow: Longman, 2001); Richard Rex, “The Role of English Humanists in the Reformation up to 1559,” in The Education of a Christian Society: Humanism and Reformation in Britain and the Netherlands, ed. N. Scott Amos, Andrew Pettegree, and Henk F. K van Nierop (Aldershot: Ashgate, 1999), 19-40. See also Rosemary O’Day, “Roger Ascham, 1516-1568,” in Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. 5 His other Latin works of theology are Expositiones antiquae in epistolas Divi Pauli ad Titum et Philemonem ex diversis sanctorum Patrum Graece scriptis commentariis, ab Oecumenio (ca. 1542) and Themata Quaedam Theologica (ca. 1545). Ryan, Ascham, 96-97.

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could be fully embedded within highly polemical bids for reform, inform advanced theological positions, and bring them into sharper definition.6 Whilst the humanist displays in the Apologia were not confessional markers in and of themselves, they were integral to the dogmatic positions being espoused and to a wider process of polarization. The humanist input may be more conspicuous in the Apologia, but similar patterns of discourse can be witnessed in other contemporary works on the Eucharist, suggesting that this was a prevalent idiom of polemical theology, especially among the educated elite. This essay explores this thesis from the Protestant perspective, taking the mid-century writings of England (including the continental texts published there) and especially Ascham’s Apologia as its focus, and examines each humanist area in turn.

History In his case against the Mass, Ascham exploited the discipline of history in a number of creative ways. Having declared that he was embarking on an ad fontes investigation into the origins of the sacrament, Ascham devoted an entire section of the work to the depiction of the Mass as a historical construct whose provenance was not only foreign but wholly unapostolic.7 He began as follows: The Devil has made use not just of one century or one man for so great a project . . . I think that the origin of the Mass has derived in part from those sacrifices which ungodly Jewish priests increased beyond due measure and offered up to Baal . . . I also think that a large part of the Mass has flowed forth from pagan nations into our religion.8

Ascham attributed the inception of the Mass to a series of foreign imports, including Jewish practices and paganism, characteristics that, he claimed, could “be easily gleaned by any man who has read the chronicles of the most ancient Greeks.”9 He then narrowed his historical audit to the 6

I rely here on Kristeller’s widely accepted definition of “humanism” as the classical educational programme based on the studia humanitatis (Paul O. Kristeller, Renaissance Thought: The Classics, Scholastics and Humanistic Strains [New York: Harper, 1961, repr., 1990], chap. 1). 7 Apologia, 31-38. 8 Ibid., 31-32: “Diabolus non uno seculo, nec uno viro ad tantam rem abusus est. . . . puto tamen originem Missae, partim ex sacrificiis illis demanasse, quae impii sacerdotes Iudaei supra modum auxerunt & instituerunt Baal. . . . Existimo etiam magnam partem Missae ex Gentibus in nostram religionem profluxisse.” 9 Ibid.

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precise establishment of the Mass in England, namely its institution by Augustine at the behest of Pope Gregory: Augustine, . . . a squanderer of true religion and founder of every papistical doctrine, writes to Pope Gregory, asking how the Mass should be instituted in England since so many versions of performing the Mass had sprung up in France and Italy. Gregory writes back that he should follow neither the Roman way nor the French way, but whatever he himself deems to be followed.10

All the while, he emphasized that the real sacrament was grounded in the early and “timeless ways” of the Apostles.11 A particularly noteworthy aspect of Ascham’s approach was his historical conception of language as manifested in a historical-philological survey of the term “Mass” through the centuries.12 He pointed out that the missa (Mass) was a Syrian word and one used occasionally by the Jews to denote “a contribution of the people.” He then proceeded to trace the application of the verb mitto (meaning “I send”) with which missa is cognate in different scenarios through time. He noted, for example, that the verb was familiar to the ancient Latins on account of “the sending away (dimittendis) of the catechumens” or “the sending away (dimittenda) of the people when the business had been completed,” but was clear that mitto did not and should not now give rise to an interpretation that Christ having become a sacrifice by a priest is “sent” (mittitur) on our behalf.13 Through his etymological deconstruction of the term “Mass,” Ascham had effectively demystified and desacralized the concept that lay behind it. A similarly aggressive historical approach was used by some of the most outspoken theological reformers of the Protestant Reformation. Hooper, in response to a Catholic argument of the Mass’s unchanging place in the Christian narrative, retorted with a detailed and damaging argument from history.14 He attributed the belief in transubstantiation to 10

Ibid., 33: “Augustinus . . . profligator verae religionis, & fundator omnis Papisticae doctrinae, scribit ad Gregorium Papam, quaerens quomodo Missam in Angliam constituerit, cum tam multiplices formae missandi, in Gallia & Italia, extiterint. Gregorius rescribit, ut nec Romanum nec Gallicum morem sequeretur, sed quicquid ille ipse sequendum esse duceret.” 11 Ibid., 34-35. 12 Ibid., 35-37. 13 Ibid., 35. 14 John Hooper, An Answer unto my lord of wynchesters booke (Zurich, 1547), sigs. S3v et seq. in response to Stephen Gardiner, A detection of the Deuils sophistrie (London, 1546), sigs. B4v-B5r.

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Pope Innocent III, asserted that masses essentially began to become known under [St] Benedict, and were fully adopted in the ninth century, acerbically noting that “those that redith the histories and wrytinges of our elders knowith what byshopes of late days made this Mass.”15 Becon was another who frequently availed himself of history in reformist writing. In his Comparison of the Supper and the Mass, he illustrated the Mass with a series of papal decrees, for which he provided precise dates in order to trace the historical development of false worship.16 Becon’s Reliques, discussed at greater length by Jonathan Reimer in his essay, were in part dedicated to a rationalization of the Mass through historical detail. Likewise, Ascham’s focus on historical nomenclature reflected a growing Protestant practice to undermine the Mass through philological scrutiny. In a tract called the Hurt of Hearing Mass, Bradford surveyed a range of theories about the origin of the term missa. Just as Ascham had done, he drew attention to the word’s Jewish heritage, including the Hebrew words “mincha” and “missath,” he pointed out the term’s semantic connotations of “sending away,” and referred to its possible Syrian origins.17 The role of the historical perspective served to do more than lend a bit of gravity to a pre-existing theological position; it provided a rigorous test of theological legitimacy and a vital mechanism for discrediting what was viewed to be unsound doctrine.

Classical Literature The area we most obviously associate with humanism is classical literature. The Renaissance, which made available classical authors and genres to a degree unparalleled since the Greek and Roman eras, is often said to have given birth to the humanist movement. Ascham was a scholar steeped in the writings of the ancients and in the Apologia applied his literary knowledge to a trenchant denigration of the Mass. As a means to magnify the grotesque image of the Mass sacrifice, Ascham referred to a sacrifice in an ancient Greek tragedy, one particularly unusual and shocking even by ancient standards, the sacrifice of a girl, Polyxena:

15

Hooper, Answer, sigs. T3r-V4r. Thomas Becon, A comparison between the Lord’s Supper and the Pope’s Mass (1560) in Prayers and other pieces of Becon, ed. Rev. John Ayre (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1844), 360. 17 John Bradford, Hurt of Hearing Mass in The Writings of John Bradford, ed. Aubrey Townsend (Cambridge: Parker Society, 1853), 304-305. 16

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Truly, as regards the defence of the sacrificial Mass, I can say this in all honesty, that it is not so much able to be gleaned from the whole of Scripture as from the first tragedy of Euripides in which these are the words of a certain sacrificer: . . . “Having taken a gold cup in his hands, he said ‘My Father, receive these placatory sacrifices for drawing forth the dead’ and the whole crowd present worshipped”; and other things which follow.18

The function of Ascham’s classical references seemed to go beyond mere embellishment. The description of the ritual sacrifice in the Euripidean text, such as the holding up of the cup and the worship that followed, seemed to tally exactly with conventions in the Mass, thereby cementing the connection between the two and reinforcing the impiety of each. Ascham’s intimate knowledge of this Greek play had led him to classify with some confidence the Mass as a pagan rather than a Christian rite.19 Elsewhere in the tract, he quoted from a work by the Greek orator Isocrates about enemies of the state to highlight the risks of misguided toleration of priests offering the Mass, and he utilized the Platonic opposition of shadows and reality in order to embarrass the external priesthood and the priestly sacrifice.20 Ascham was allowing ancient delineations of propriety, statecraft, truth, and delusion to have a bearing on a sixteenthcentury theological debate about salvation. Others too were using classical literature in their Eucharistic interventions. Gilby’s knowledge of Livy and his descriptions of prodigies and portents contributed to his representation of the Mass (he was also responding to Gardiner) as a miracle akin to those of the pre-Christian age: Prophane histories do tell us of a hundred strange wonders wrought by the devil: Livius sayeth that bloude dyd flowe out of the thoumbe of the Image

18

Apologia, 32-33: “Pro Missa vero sacrificatoria propugnanda hoc vere possum dicere, non tantum ex tota Scriptura colligi posse, quantum ex prima Tragoedia Euripidis, apud quem, Sacrifici cuiusdam haec verba sunt: ʌȜોȡİȢ į’਩Ȟ ȤİȡȠ૙Ȟ ȜĮȕઅȞ į੼ʌĮȢ ʌ੺ȖȤȡȣıȠȞ, İੁʌİȞ: ੩ ʌ઼Ț ȆȘȜ੻ȦȢ, ʌĮIJ੾ȡ į’ਥȝòȢ, į੻ȟĮȚ ȤȠĮȢ ȝȠȚ IJ੹ıįİ, țȘȜȘIJȘȡ઀ȠȣȢ, Ȟİțȡ૵Ȟ ਙȖȦȖȠȣȢ. ʌ઼Ȣ į’ਥʌȘ઄ȟĮIJȠ ıIJȡĮIJòȢ . Accepto poculo aureo in manibus dixit, Pater mi, suscipe haec sacrificia placatoria, mortuorum deductoria: & universus populus adstans adprecatus est: & alia quae sequuntur.” 19 See also Deborah K. Shuger, Renaissance Bible: scholarship, sacrifice and subjectivity (Berkeley–Los Angeles–Oxford: University of California Press, 1994). 20 Apologia, 67 (citing Isocrates’s Archidamus, chap. 2-3), and 106 and 132 (he does not expressly mention Plato at this point, but the allusions are unmistakable).

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Chapter Six of Jupiter . . . [and that] it rained fleshe at Rome . . . but what neadeth us to seeke for olde lyes and fained miracles?21

In the Institutes, one of the most widely read tracts of the Reformation, Calvin discussed at some length the way in which Plato in his Republic had presciently foreseen “the expiation of the Mass as it exists in the world in this modern day,” writing: [Plato spoke] of ancient expiations, and deriding the foolish confidence of wicked and iniquitous men, who thought that by them, as a kind of veils, they concealed their crimes from the gods. . . . Plato next proceeds to deride the gross stupidity of those who think by such expiations to redeem the punishments which they must otherwise suffer after death. And what is meant by anniversaries and the greater part of masses in the present day, but just that those who through life have been . . . adepts in all kinds of wickedness, may, as if redeemed at this price, escape the fire of purgatory?22

Nor were the ideas and paradigms of classical literature being utilized solely in a negative way. Classical authors could enhance one’s understanding of theological concepts and were consequently being deployed as authorities in their own right in important doctrinal debates. A classical author helped to shape Ascham’s understanding of the sacrifice of the Eucharist. As part of his argument about the abstract nature of the sacrifice that all Christians must undertake in the sacrament, he cited in parallel with Psalm 58, Isaiah, and St Paul, the ancient rhetorician Isocrates.23 He expressly drew attention to “a most pleasing notion” in Isocrates “which can be regarded as having been taken not from the workshop of teachers of rhetoric but from the school of Isaiah.”24 And he quoted Isocrates: These are his words: “Consider that this is the best sacrifice and the highest form of veneration of God, if you show yourself to be a very good man and a very just one; for hope is more assured for the sort of men who intend to follow the good, whatever it be, from God than those who make numerous sacrifices and slay countless victims.”25

21

Anthony Gilby, An ansvver to the deuillish detection of Stephane Gardiner ([London?]: Printed by S. Mierdman for John Day, 1547/48), sig. Oiv. 22 John Calvin, Institutes, chapter XVIII, section 15, as set out in the online version, http://oll.libertyfund.org/titles/535. 23 Apologia, 85-86. 24 Ibid., 86. 25 Ibid.: “Verba eius haec sunt. Hoc sacrificium optimum & summum Dei cultum esse puta, si teipsum optimum virum iustissimumque praestiteris: certior enim spes

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This ancient Greek orator not only inspired and reinforced Ascham’s conception of a Christian sacrifice as one of attitude and the mind, but served too as an authoritative arbiter in this hotly contested theological debate. In a similar way, classical literature endorsed theological positions in Hutchinson’s Eucharistic text. He would rely on Cicero in his attempt to define the term “nature” in respect of the bread and wine of the sacrament. Arguing that the nature of the bread and wine remain materially the same, he averred “approved writers do use it in this acception and signification as Marcus Tullius in his book De somnio Scipionis.”26 The texts of Greece and Rome were being appropriated and assimilated to the pressing theological issues of the day and, with an authority almost akin to that of Scripture itself, were being cited as a means to impugn the most hallowed ceremony of the Catholic Church.

Satire Another prominent feature of Ascham’s refutation of the Mass, especially the sacrificing priesthood, was satire. It is a genre often associated in history writing with humanism.27 However, it was one that a growing Protestant movement would frequently draw on and, when coupled with a theological challenge to sacerdotal legitimacy, its effects were so much more pernicious. Satire was considered to be particularly effective when it came to challenging a Catholic belief in the priest’s symbolic power in the Mass. For Ascham, the entire repertoire of moves and gestures in the Mass, which seemed to give rise to a priestly claim to be the august intermediary between God and the Christian faithful, were altogether unscriptural. Focusing at one point on the priest’s spoken rites of the Mass, including the blessing and the dismissal, he wrote: Come sacrificer/priest, what do you think when you turn yourself around so many times towards the altar and say Dominus vobiscum when often no one is there and very often no one understands. Perhaps you are speaking to walls? Or to images? Hear something which is worthy of even greater

est, tales viros quodvis bonum à Deo consequuturos, quam qui crebra sacrificia faciunt, crebrasque mactant victimas.” 26 Roger Hutchinson, A Faithful Declaration of Christes Holy Supper comprehended in Three Sermons preached at Eton (London: John Day, 1560) in Works of Roger Hutchinson, ed. John Bruce (London: Parker Society, 1842), 278. 27 Most obviously, Erasmus’s Encomium Moriae and More’s Utopia.

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Chapter Six mockery: he shouts ite missa est when there is no one who leaves. If this is not pure stupidity, what do you say it is?28

Becon was another reformer who regularly utilized satire with damning effect. In similar fashion to Ascham, Becon targeted the priests’ words and movements in the Mass ceremony: “Ye yourselves [the priests] . . . kiss the book, and turn to the people, and say: Dominus vobiscum . . . as though ye could tarry no longer, but had some great journey to go” and After a few collects mumbled over ye turn you to the people . . . and, with Ite missa est, ye bid them go home, and tell them mass is done: and all in Latin because the people understand nothing but English.29

Both men too satirized the priest at what is generally considered to be the most sacred stage in the Mass ceremony, the elevation of the host, including the priest’s touching of “Christ’s body.” Becon applying both mockery and invective wrote: After ye [priests] . . . have blasted, breathed, and blowed upon it, ye kneel down to it and worship it, like abominable idolaters; and afterward ye hold it up above your pestilent, pilled, shaven, shameless heads, that the people by looking upon it and worshipping it may be partakers also of your abominable idolatry.30

Ascham, with the utmost scorn, and simultaneously hinting at priestly pederasty, sniped: The priest elevates above his head a naked little boy31 by his ankles and the tips of his feet as though the little boy were dancing on the priest’s fingers

28

Apologia, 58-59: “Age, quid cogitas Sacrifice, cum toties te convertas ad Altare, & dicis, Dominus vobiscum, cum saepe nullus adest, saepissime nullus intelligit. An parietibus loqueris? An imaginibus tuis? Audi etiam quod maiori irrisione dignum est: clamat, Ite, Missa est, cum nemo est qui discedat: si haec non mera stultitia est, quid esse dicis?” 29 Thomas Becon, The Displaying of the Popish Mass in Prayers and other pieces of Becon, ed. Ayre, 257-258 and 282. 30 Becon, Displaying Popish Mass, 270. 31 According to Catholic teaching, the offered bread is transubstantiated or turned into the flesh of Christ, who, in this case, is referred to as the Christ Child.

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and walking on the air and, suspended there, stretches his suppliant hands to the Father.32

Ascham’s use of the Greek word ܻİȡȠȕĮIJȦȞ (aerobatǀn) meaning “walking on the air,” a word used by both Aristophanes and Lucian, was deliberately retained in Greek type as though perhaps to credit these ancient satirists for their assistance in his disclosure of the folly of the climax of the Mass and the travesty of committing one’s hopes of salvation to the priestly caste.33 Satire was being used as a weapon against the Mass that was regarded as theologically erroneous. This was a form of “jesting out the truth,”34 but its aggressive components also served a heuristic function, shocking its readers into revising their perceptions.

Greek In assessments of the Reformation there already exists a good appreciation of the ways Greek engaged with theology. Historians observe that it was central to the ad fontes impetus which held that theological sources be read in their original language. By extension, they also acknowledge the fact that insistence on linguistic purity was inevitably bound up with the purification of religion.35 The earliest confrontations of the Reformation have illustrated well the potency of humanist Greek philology in theological contexts: Erasmus’s Novum Testamentum, for example, illuminated how single Greek phrases could, at one stroke, undermine time-honoured doctrines in a way that other arguments could not. Yet, more needs to be said about the continued use of Greek philology in the antagonistic encounters of the Reformation. We need too to appreciate why Greek was such a powerful tool in theological polemic by properly taking into account the certitude Greek could bring and the degree it could be invested with a religious sanctity of its own. Greek was one of Ascham’s chief allies when going into battle with the Mass. Like Erasmus, Ascham’s careful examination of the Greek words of Scripture challenged in a brutal way the foundations of centuries-old theo32

Apologia, 35-36: “Sacerdos elevat puellum nudum supra caput per talos & imos pedes, puellus veluti saltans suprà digitos sacredotis, țĮȚ ਕİȡȠȕĮIJȦȞ (aerobatǀn) & illic pendulus supplices manus tendit Patri sedenti sublime in coelo.” 33 Aristophanes, Clouds, 225; Lucian, Philopatris, 12. 34 Simon Goldhill, Contests in the Cultural History of Hellenism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 48. 35 Peter Burke, Languages and communities in early modern Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004).

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logical doctrines. Considerable space in the Apologia was given over to philological analysis of Catholic doctrinal claims. At one point Ascham asked which New Testament Greek term his opponents could use to support the notion of the priestly sacrifice. One possibility, he suggested, was the term thusia (sacrifice). However, following a detailed examination of the term as used in the Greek of the Gospel, Ascham surmised that the priestly sacrifice was invalid and that the term was intended to have a considerably broader application in Scripture: Is the Greek thusia that sacrifice which our priests are desirous to have dominion over alone and which is separate from other men? . . . All Christians deny this with two of the most distinguished witnesses, Paul and Peter. With Paul: “I beseech you, brethren, that you make your bodies as a living thusia,” [Rom 12:1] and very clearly in his Epistle to the Hebrews, “To do good and to distribute forget not; for with such thusias God is well pleased.” [Heb 13:16] And with Peter: “A holy priesthood for to offer up spiritual thusias.” [1Pt 2:5] The Jews and the Gentiles have no word which is more common than thusia. Therefore this word extends more widely and applies to more things than to accommodate only the private sacrifice of the priests.36

The Greek of the Bible was, as far as Ascham was concerned, the only genuine means of authentication and thus rendered his argument definitive and inflexible. Other reformers also incorporated the use of Greek into their theological arsenal. Not unlike Ascham, though more briefly, Calvin denied the notion of a Mass sacrifice on the basis of the accepted sense of the original Greek: after pointing out that “the name of the sacrifice is given to what the Greeks call at one time thusia, at another prosphora, at another teletƝ,” he then concluded that these terms were so broad, including “everything whatever that is offered to God,” that the specificity of the Mass sacrifice 36

Apologia, 90-91: “șȣı੿Į (thusia) nè illud sacrificium quod soli sacerdotes possidêre cupiunt, separatum ab aliis hominibus? . . . Negant etiam Christiani omnes, duobus clarissimis testibus Paulo & Petro: Paulo, ʌĮȡĮțĮȜȦ ਫ਼ȝĮȢ, ਕįİȜijȠȚ ʌĮȡĮıIJȘıĮȚ IJ੹ ıઆȝĮIJĮ ਫ਼ȝȦȞ șȣı૘ĮȞ ȗ૵ıĮȞ (parakalǀ humas, adelphoi parastƝsai ta sǀmata humǀn thusian zǀsan): planissimè ad Hebr. IJȘȢ į੻ İ੝ʌȠ઀ȚĮȢ, țĮȚ țȠȚȞȦȞ੿ĮȢ ȝ੽ ਥʌȚȜĮȞșĮȞ੼ıșİ, IJȠȚĮ઄IJĮȚȢ ȖĮȡ șȣı૘ĮȚȢ İ੝ĮȡȚȗİȚIJĮȚ ੒ șİȠȢ (tƝs de eupoiias kai koinǀnias mƝ epilanthanesthe, toiautais gar thusias euarizeitai ho theos): et Petro, ੂİȡ੺IJȣİȝĮ ਚȖȚȠȞ, ਕȞİȞ੼ȖțĮȚ ʌȞİȣȝĮIJȚț੹Ȣ șȣı૘ĮȢ (hieratuema hagion anangkai pneumatikas thusias). Iudaei & Gentes nullum verbum tritius habent quam șȣı૘ĮȞ: latiùs ergo patet haec vox, & in plures res pertinet, quam ut soli privato sacrificio sacerdotum serviat.”

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seemed misplaced.37 Greek philology was also a feature of the Eucharist work of Peter Martyr Vermigli.38 In a tract he composed in the immediate aftermath of the 1549 Oxford disputations on the Lord’s Supper, he referred a number of times to the precise meaning of Greek words in a way which revealed an intimate connection between philology and theological conviction. The Greek term “eucharist” meaning “thanksgiving” was, for instance, absolutely central to his conception of the sacrament, the very title page of his work referring to the word twice.39 Greek was also relevant in the theological views he espoused concerning Christ’s ubiquity: For there it is not signifyed nor ment that the bodye of Christe filleth all thynges, and is in all places as they doe bryng in and conclude vpon it. But because the significacion of this Greke word or participle ʌȜȘȡȦȝ੼ȞȠȣ [i.e., filling] is indifferente to be taken two manier of wayes, (for it is a verbe common, as the Gramarians call it, that is to say, of suche nature, that it may signifye eyther dooyng or sufferyng (as ye lust.) For ye maye chose whether ye will take it and Englishe it, fillyng, or els beyng fylled: If ye Englishe it, beynge fylled: than shall the sense and menyng of it bee, that Christe beeyng the heade of the churche, is in his membres made full and perfect in all poyntes.40

Greek philology was inherently bound up with the relationship between language and meaning and it cut straight to the heart of theological dialectic. As such, it had tremendous ideological purchase.41 As Ascham himself declared in his Apologia: 37

Calvin, Institutes, chapter XVIII, section 13. Peter M. Vermigli, Tractatio de sacramento Eucharistiae (1549). See also The Oxford Treatise and Disputation on the Eucharist, 1549, Peter Martyr Vermigli trans. and ed. Joseph C. McLelland (Kirksville: Truman State University Press, 2000). 39 This was one reason that Vermigli put so much emphasis on the Eucharistic prayer which contained the idea of a sacrifice of thanksgiving and which, in turn, helped to influence the shape of the 1549 Book of Common Prayer: Don Fuller, “Sacrifice and Sacrament: Another Eucharistic Contribution form Peter Martyr Vermigli,” in Peter Martyr Vermigli and the European Reformations: semper reformanda, ed. Frank A. James (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 236. 40 A discourse or traictise of Petur Martyr Vermilla […] wherein he openly declared his whole and determinate iudgemente concernynge the sacrament of the Lordes supper (Imprited at London: By Robert Stoughton, [1550]), fol. xcvi. 41 This is an area which has attracted growing interest from historians of the Renaissance and Reformation: Richard Waswo, Language and Meaning in the Renaissance (Princeton–Guildford: Princeton University Press, 1987); Lodi Nauta, ed., Language and Cultural Change: aspects of study and use of language in the Later Middle Ages and the Renaissance (Leuven–Dudley, MA: Peeters, 2006); Tom Betteridge and 38

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I am compelled to intersperse Latin with Greek, . . . I do this now, not so that I can show off with Greek words, but so that I can show the truth with their light.42

The Greek language had clout, and doctrine that had been sanctioned by the original Greek was accorded a status of a different order. Appreciation of its importance was one reason for the extreme reaction to Gardiner’s Devil’s Sophistrie. Gardiner had quoted at some length the Greek of John of Damascus on images and Gregory of Nazianzus concerning transmutation of forms (that is, transubstantiation).43 The time and effort spent in the corresponding rebuttals of these Greek quotes and Gardiner’s interpretation of them was considerable: Gilby actually had a subheading dedicated to “the answeare to Doctour Damascen whom Wynchester rehearseth in greke.”44 The battleground that revolved around these Greek quotes reflected the high stakes involved in knowing this language. Knowledge of this ancient tongue was not simply an adjunct but played an integral and essential part in one’s whole engagement with theology, both its disputes and proofs.

Rhetoric The final and arguably most important element of Ascham’s humanism on display in the Apologia was classical rhetoric. Rhetoric was a pivotal element of the studia humanitatis, and there has been an acknowledgement of the extent to which the discipline was an indispensable one in the religious Reformation, for example, within the remit of preaching.45 Yet, there still remains a lack of analysis of the close interaction between rhetoric and reformed theology. Ascham’s Apologia provides an excellent

Anna Riehl, eds., Tudor Court Culture, (Selinsgrove, PA: Susquehanna University Press, 2010). 42 Apologia, 88: “Cogor Graeca Latinis interponere, . . . hoc iàm instituo, non ut me Graecis verbis ostentem, sed ut veritatem luminibus suis ostendam.” 43 Devil’s Sophistrie, sigs. Er and H2r et seq. 44 Gilby, An Answer, sig. Q7v et seq. 45 Cathy Shrank, Writing the Nation in Reformation England, 1530-1580 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), chap. 5; John Monfasani, “Humanism and Rhetoric,” in Renaissance and Humanism: Foundations, forms and legacy, 171-235. Matheson has even argued that it was words, their power and manipulation, that ultimately effected the religious shifts of the Reformation: Peter Matheson, The Rhetoric of the Reformation (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1998).

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demonstration of the degree to which rhetoric was integral to the push for doctrinal change, both practically and ideologically. Ascham’s anti-Mass tract was a rhetorical tour de force underpinned by oratorical techniques drawn mainly from the Ciceronian school, but also from Greek orators like Isocrates and Demosthenes. Every sentence is susceptible of fruitful literary criticism. Ascham mobilized a wide range of rhetorical techniques as a means to undermine the Mass. Several are on show in his criticism of the monopoly of the Mass, which he argued had occluded the administration of the true sacrament: But on what one matter do we spend each day without being sated and very long ages without nausea and establish the stronghold of our religion? Is it not in hearing the Mass? Is it not in seeing the Mass? Is it not the Mass alone which brings it about that everything else becomes “sent”?46

The accumulation of the rhetorical questions together with the anaphora of an-non and the two successive –endas in audienda (hearing) and videnda (seeing) really underscored the total dominance of the Mass to the point of saturation. The sting in the tail was a joke using word-play which essentially invested the word missa (Mass) with a new layer of meaning, namely the responsibility of the “sending away” (mitto) of all other religious rites. Ascham’s rhetoric had captured the very essence of this important theological message and worked to hammer it home all the more effectively. The same rhetorical phenomenon can be witnessed in other contemporary tracts on the Eucharist. Though written in English and therefore without the versatility that an inflected language as Latin offers, Gilby’s Answer used techniques such as the repetition of negatives, symmetrical clauses, and word-play in order to shore up an argument against the worship of the bread as Christ’s body: Feare him [viz. the bread] not therefore (o my little flocke), for he can neither do good nor yvyll. No he hath neither life nor feeling. He felt not when he was baken into a cake, neither feeleth he when the priest breaketh him, because there is no spirite of lyfe in hym . . . The Goddes that you

Apologia, 60: “At in qua una re singulos dies sine satietate, longissima secula sine fastidio consumimus, & arcem religionis nostrae collocamus? An-non in Missa audienda? an-non in Missa videnda? an-non sola Missa facit ut caetera omnia missa fiant?”

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The verbal jingle of the baker’s “baketh” and the priest’s “maketh” not only lent more force to his point, but more closely connected the futile acts of a sacrificing priest with the menial business of a simple artisan. Ascham also harnessed rhetoric as a positive means of capturing the very meaning of his version of the Lord’s Supper. In one of the most artistically designed passages of the entire work, he evoked the sacred crux of the Supper with an immensely dramatic crescendo, reinforced by anaphora and asyndeton: For in the Supper, what can be more exalted than the founder, what more divine than the business itself, what more superior than its use, what more longed for than its purpose? The founder is Christ, the thing itself Christ, the use Christ, the purpose Christ, everything is Christ.48

This passage had all the qualities of fervent chanting as though the words themselves facilitated a spiritual moment of worship. Ascham followed this with a description of the Eucharistic communion, again its Latin carefully arranged for maximum rhetorical effect. He used, for example, a tripartite sentence, intricately interlacing “Christ” and “us” to convey the union, and framed each end of the clause with the word coniuncti (joined together) in order to capture the spirit of participation of mortal in the divine: So that we may be at one with Christ and, having become bones from his bones, we may unite in the body of Christ, and in this (way) not only be joined together in a certain spiritual grace, but also joined together in a natural and bodily sharing.49

Here style and substance were not only in harmony but dependent upon each other. In a sense, Ascham was not so much explaining the doc47

Gilby, An Answer, EEBO image number 159 (the page numbers of the tract are jumbled at this point). EEBO stands for Early English Books Online, eebo.chadwyck.com. 48 Apologia, 7: “In caena enim quid authore sublimius, quid re divinius, quid usu praestantius, quid fine exoptatius esse potest? Author Christus est, res Christus, usus Christus, finis Christus, omnia Christus.” 49 Ibid., 10-11: “Ut Christi toti simus, ut facti ossa ex ossibus eius, in Christi corpus coalescamus: & hoc non solum spirituali quadam gratia coniuncti, sed naturali etiam & corporali participatione coniuncti.”

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trine of the Lord’s Supper as enacting it. Through the structure of the words, he had captured something of the emotional and intellectual power of the sacramental communion itself. There is much more to say about the power of rhetoric in the Apologia, however, one final example must suffice. Fundamental to the polemical encounters of the Reformation was the demarcation of difference and separation from one’s theological opponents. The rhetorical technique of antithesis was a very powerful means by which such an impression could be achieved. Early in the Apologia, Ascham included a lengthy series of antitheses which grew out of a dichotomy of human tradition and the Gospel, and culminated in a direct opposition between the Mass and the Lord’s Supper, for example: For what else is it than to raise human works up against the free justification of faith? And (what else than) to commit the force of human freewill to compete with the grace of God? Finally, (what else than) to compare that which is the source and only protection in which the pope defends himself against Christ—the authority of the church—with the authority of the Word of God?50

This device of antithesis was one others likewise set great store by. Melanchthon, a reformer for whom rhetoric was central to his activities as a Protestant, regularly framed his theological propositions within antithesis.51 In his Loci Communes, he drew fundamental distinctions between Moses and Christ and between the Law and the Gospel. In chapters which dealt with the sacrament and sacrifice, he used antithesis to starkly contrast external works with true worship.52 Rhetorical antithesis which could simultaneously condemn and elevate, lent a distinct rigidity to theological argumentation.53 Such antitheses were not simply about style; at stake was the presentation of genuine theological choice, between a

50

Apologia, 18: “Nam quid aliud est quam merita humana erigere contra gratuitam iustificationem fidei? Et arbitrii humani vires in contentionem committere cum gratia Dei? postremo, quod caput est & unica Arx, in qua munit se contra Christum Papa, authoritatem Ecclesiae cum authoritate verbi Dei comparare?” 51 John Schneider, “Melanchthon’s Rhetoric as a Context for Understanding his Theology,” in Melanchthon in Europe, ed. Maag, 141-160. 52 Philip Melanchthon, Loci Communes in Melanchthon on Christian Doctrine, Loci Communes, 1555, ed. and trans., Clyde L. Manschreck (New York: Oxford Univesity Press, 1965). Melanchthon was responsible for the production of books on rhetoric (De Rhetorica libri tres) which were being constantly revised during his life. 53 Rex, “Role of Humanists,” 65.

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Protestant and a Catholic version of the sacrament, between truth and error, and ultimately between salvation and damnation.

Conclusion The Apologia and other contemporary texts on the Eucharist offer valuable illustrations of how the skills acquired through a humanist training could be utilized in forthright and combative theological contexts. For many who cared about religious reform, humanist learning and the verbal precision, linguistic affinity and deep knowledge of the ancient world it entailed, were not benign or merely decorative resources; they constituted a powerful means to fight doctrinal battles. Disciplines and genres such as history, literature, satire, Greek, and rhetoric, when applied to the theological sphere, had an authority of their own. They had the capacity to refute theological detractors, exacerbate confessional division, and even to challenge the way polemical theology was conducted.

CHAPTER SEVEN THE NEO-LATIN SATIRES OF HANNARDUS GAMERIUS AS POLEMICAL THEOLOGY DAVID A. PORTER

Throughout the Renaissance there was, in theory, an accepted critical definition of satire derived from the fourth century grammarian Diomedes, which described satire as a poetic genre for carping at vice, as exemplified by the Roman poets Lucilius, Horace, Juvenal, and Persius.1 Furthermore, throughout the Middle Ages and Renaissance, theorists frequently conceived of satire as not only carping at vices but also extolling virtue, thereby conceptualizing the genre as similar to invective, a branch of epideictic (or praise-and-blame) rhetoric.2 In its most narrow generic sense, satire 1

“Satira dicitur carmen apud Romanos nunc quidem maledicum et ad carpenda hominum vitia archaeae comoediae charactere conpositum, quale scripserunt Lucilius et Horatius et Persius.” (Satire is said to be a Roman type of verse composition, which at least now is slanderous and carps at people’s vices, in the manner of Old Comedy, such as the ones which were written by Lucilius, Horace, and Persius.) Diomedes, “Artis grammaticae libri III,” in Grammatici Latini, ed. Heinrich Keil, 8 vols. (Leipzig: Teubner, 1857), I, 485. Unless otherwise noted, all translations are my own. 2 Much has been written on the early modern critical approach to satire; see Lennart Pagrot, Den klassiska verssatirens teori: debatten kring genren från Horatius t. o. m. 1700-talet (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1961), 49-110; Helmut Castrop, Die varronische Satire in England 1660–1690: Studien zu Butler, Marvell und Dryden (Heidelberg: Winter, 1983), 25-120; Olimpia Pelosi, Satira barocca e teoriche sul genere dal Cinque all’Ottocento (Naples: Federico & Ardia, 1991), 61-93; Marco Antonio Coronel Ramos, La sátira latina (Madrid: Editorial Síntesis, 2002), 161-173; Marco Antonio Coronel Ramos, “La teoría satírica humanística,” in La Universitat de València i l’humanisme: ‘Studia Humanitatis’ i renovació cultural a la Europa i al nou món, ed. Ferran Grau Codina, Xavier Gómez Font, Jordi Pérez Dura and José María Estellés González (Valencia: Universidad de Valencia, 2003), 403-414; J.W. Jolliffe, “Satyre: Satura: Ȉǹ-

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referred to the works of the ancient Roman satirists and later poems modelled after them. However, in its broadest sense, throughout the Renaissance satire encompassed a range of works not only in poetry but also in numerous types of art and literature. The most well-known works of Neo-Latin satire, such as Erasmus’s (1466–1536) Moriae encomium (1511) and the pseudo-medieval Latin Epistolae obscurorum virorum (1515, 1517), were written in prose; but in verse, Neo-Latin satires ranged from the long didactic poem, such as Palingenius’s (ca. 1500–ca. 1551) Zodiacus Vitae (1536) in heroic verses or Friedrich Dedekind’s (1524– 1598) Grobianus (1549) in elegiac couplets, to numerous pasquinades and short epigrams, often in imitation of Martial. There was also in Neo-Latin literature a genre of formal verse satire—namely, poems closely modelled, in terms of metre, themes, and style, on the works of the Roman satirists. This was a minor genre, yet it was nevertheless practised by many significant early modern poets and scholars, such as Francesco Filelfo (1398– 1481), Tito Vespasiano Strozzi (1424–ca. 1505), Julius Caesar Scaliger (1484–1558), Janus Dousa (1545–1604), and others.3 Although satire was a genre with historical and generic precedents, it was not however one which afforded rigid or consistent generic boundaries. For example, the shorter formal satire could closely resemble the epigram in diction, form, and subject-matter, as does Ulrich von Hutten’s (1488–1523) fifty-line satire written against Pope Julius II entitled In tempora Iulii satyra (1519)

ȉȊȇȅȈ. A Study in Confusion,” Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance, 18 (1956): 84-95; Claude A. Mayer, “‘Satyre’ as a dramatic genre,” Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance, 13 (1951): 327-333; D. J. Shaw, “More about the ‘Dramatic Satyre’,” Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance, 30 (1968): 301-325; and Jürgen Brummack, “Zu Begriff und Theorie der Satire,” Deutsche Vierteljahrsschrift für Literaturwissenschaft und Geistesgeschichte, 45 (1971): 275-377. 3 This was the subject of my recent PhD dissertation, which is being revised for publication: David Andrew Porter, Neo-Latin Formal Verse Satire from 1420 to 1616 (unpublished PhD Dissertation, University of Cambridge, 2014). On NeoLatin satire in general, see Jozef IJsewijn, “Neo-Latin Satire: Sermo and Satyra Menippea,” in Classical Influences on European Culture A.D. 1500-1700, ed. R. R. Bolgar (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976), 41-55, with emendations in Humanistica Lovaniensia 25 (1976), 288, and 26 (1977), 45; Coronel Ramos, La sátira latina, 157-229; Thomas Haye and Franziska Schnoor, eds., Epochen der Satire: Traditionslinien einer literarischen Gattung in Antike, Mittelalter und Renaissance (Hildesheim: Weidmann, 2008); Sari Kivistö, Medical Analogy in Latin Satire (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009); and David Marsh, “Satire,” in Brill’s Encyclopaedia of the Neo-Latin World, 2 vols., ed. Philip Ford, Jan Bloemendal, and Charles Fantazzi (Leiden: Brill, 2014), I, 413-423.

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which shares an affinity with the author’s various epigrams on the same subject both in terms of vocabulary and thematic content.4 One writer of such formal verse satires was Hannardus Gamerius (also known as Hannard van Gameren or Gamerius Mosaeus),5 who published ten satires in various editions between 1564 and 1572.6 Gamerius wrote his satires in order to challenge the Reform theologians (most of his targets were Lutherans) and to defend the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church, thus adapting an ancient genre to suit the needs of contemporary religious controversy. In ancient Rome the satirist advertised himself as a chastiser of vices and champion of moral order, a role which Gamerius appropriated, thereby linking his engagement in religious controversy with the exposure of societal immorality and vice. As such, his works represent a restructuring of the genre of satire from the pursuit of vice to the refutation of heresy. Though still adhering to the satiric aim of moral and societal improvement, Gamerius’s satires redirected that aim towards per4

Ulrich von Hutten, Schriften, ed. Eduard Böcking, 7 vols. (Leipzig: Teubner, 1859-1870), III (1862), 269-270. 5 “Mosaeus” means a native of Maaseik in Limburg. 6 His satires appeared in a variety of editions: Hannard Gamerius, Relliquiae sanctorum. Contra haereticos praesentis saeculi, pia et catholica patrum authoritate defensae ([Ingolstadii/Ingolstadt: Alexander II. Weißenhorn & Samuel Weißenhorn], 1564), De merito Christi, an illud Papistae hactenus [...] (Ingolstadii/Ingolstadt: excudebant Alexander & Samuel Vveissenhornii, 1566), Bucolica Latina: ad imitationem Theocriti, Graeci et Virgilii conscripta (Antverpiae/Antwerp: ex officina Christophori Plantini, 1568), Satyrae duae: illos quos Papistae Lutheranos appellant ([n.p.: n. pub.], 1568). This volume contains no information considering its place of publication. The library catalogue at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek in Munich suggests Munich as the place of publication. Another catalogue suggests Antwerp, see Andrew Pettegree and Malcolm Walsby, Netherlandish Books: Books Published in the Low Countries and Dutch Books Published Abroad Before 1601 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), I, 561. Satyra contra impudens Iac. Andr. Schmidlini de Lutheranorum concordia mendacium (Coloniae/Cologne: excudebat Nicolaus Graphaeus, 1569), Irenarchus sive satyra contra prodigiosum Lutheri, Ioannis Brentii aliorumque de catholicae ecclesiae principiis mendacium (Leodii/Liège: Typis Gualteri Morberii typographi iurati, 1570), Demonstratio Lutheranos esse et semper fore Catholicos (Ingolstadii/Ingolstadt: ex Vveisenhorniana officina, 1572). Gamerius apparently published one final satire, but it has not been possible to locate the volume Satyra de fide et bonis operibus, ex eo nata quod Lutherus & Calvinus docere ausi sint: solam fidem iustificare (Liège: Gautier Morberius, 1579), which is said to be held in the Bibliothèque royale in Bruxelles, Pettegree and Walsby, I, 561. When citing passages of Gamerius’s satires, I have consulted all the editions in which the passage occurs. A summary of the contents of these volumes appears at the end of this chapter.

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suading the reader not only of the moral and character failings of heretical theologians, but also of their internal inconsistencies and contradictions and their departure from religious truth. Only a few details concerning Gamerius’s life are known. He was born in 1530 at Hemerten on the Maas in Limburg, is said to have attended the Trilingual College of Leuven, and obtained a licentiate in medicine. He was appointed professor of Greek on 12 December 1564 in Ingolstadt, an important centre for Catholicism during the German Reformation, and after the Jesuits took control of the University he taught in the Netherlands, first at Tongres and then at Harderwijk in Gelderland.7 Gamerius later served as secretary of Don Juan of Austria (1545–1578).8 He was also granted the title of poet laureate, most likely at Ingolstadt in 1566.9 The year 1569 is often given as the year of his death, though that is unlikely, as evident by his translation of a defence of Don Juan’s role in the Dutch revolt, published in 1578.10 Gamerius’s published works also include pastoral poetry in imitation of Virgil and Theocritus, a “tragoedia vere sacra” (truly sacred tragedy) entitled Pornius, various polemical works, a letter-writing manual,11 a poem in heroic verse in praise of the Greek language, a long poem—Turris sacra Dilingana—describing a spiritual ascension up a tower, built by the cardinal bishop of Augsburg, in the town of Dillingen,12 a translation from the Greek of the Lithica 7

Henry de Vocht, History of the Foundation and the Rise of the Collegium Trilingue Lovaniense, 1517-1550, 4 vols. (Louvain: Bibliothèque de l’Université, Bureaux du Recueil, 1951-1955), IV (1955), 315. 8 P.A.M. Geurts, De Nederlandse Opstand in de pamfletten 1566–1584 (Utrecht: Hes Uitgevers, 1983), 68. 9 John L. Flood, Poets Laureate in the Holy Roman Empire: A Bio-bibliographical Handbook, 4 vols (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2006), II [D-K], 624. 10 Hannard Gamerius, Vera et simplex narratio eorum, quae ab adventu D. Ioannis Austriaci gesta sunt (Luxemburgi/Luxemburg: apud Martinum Marchant, 1578), A1r. This is the Latin version of the book defending the actions of Don Juan in the Dutch Revolt, Veritable Recit des choses passees és Pays Bas, depuis la venue du seigneur Don Iehan D’Austrice, etc. (Luxembourg: Avec Privilege de sa Maieste, 1577). 11 Judith Rice Henderson, “Humanism and the Humanities: Erasmus’s Opus de conscribendis epistolis in Sixteenth-Century Schools,” in Letter-Writing Manuals and Instruction from Antiquity to the Present, ed. Carol Poster and Linda C. Mitchell (Columbia, SC: The University of South Carolina Press, 2007), 165-166. 12 Maria Giulia Aurigemma, “Sacra in a Tower: the Cardinal of Augsburg’s Paintings and Reliquaries in 1566,” in Sacred Possessions: Collecting Italian Religious Art, 1500–1900, ed. Gail Feigenbaum and Sybille Ebert-Schifferer (Los Angeles: Getty Research Institute, 2011), 84-103.

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attributed to Orpheus, and other minor pieces.13 Reasonably prolific, his works have been largely forgotten and unappreciated. The nineteenthcentury Dutch Latinist, Petrus Hofman Peerlkamp, in his bio-bibliography of Neo-Latin poets from the Low Countries, was the last to remark on the æsthetic quality of Gamerius’s poetry, simply commenting that the poems of Gamerius were not to his taste.14 Within the genre of formal verse satire Gamerius was far from the only poet inclined to comment on religious affairs, although after the Reformation, the greater number of Neo-Latin satirists were on the Protestant side of the religious divide. The highest achievement of sixteenth-century Neo-Latin verse satire was George Buchanan’s (1506–1582) long Juvenalian satire, Franciscanus, which was written in some form around 1538, but circulated only in manuscript prior to its publication by an anonymous printer in 1566.15 Buchanan’s Franciscanus closely and expertly imitated—in theme, style, and diction—Juvenalian declamatory satire.16 The poem begins with a dialogue between the poet and a prospective Franciscan. Soon an elder Franciscan monk named Eubulus (literally meaning “good counsel”) comes to reveal to the prospective monk the trickery of the Franciscan order, claiming they eschew humanistic grammar, rhetorical training, and Pauline spirituality. He further suggests that they prey upon superstitious minds in order to extort money and provides lurid details from contemporary scandals. Other religious satires appeared as well, sometimes in large collections. Thomas Naogeorgus (Kirchmeyer, 1508–1563), a Lutheran pastor known for his Neo-Latin plays, was also the author of numerous religious satires.17 Naogeorgus’s satires follow a broad range of novel and traditional approaches, ranging from complaints about the state of contemporary poetry (II.1), a theme touched on in Persius and Juvenal’s first satires, as well as Horace in satire I.4, to satires 13

For a list of his works, see Flood, Poets Laureate, II [D-K], 624-625. “Haec quidem ad meum palatum non faciunt.” Petrus Hofman Peerlkamp, Liber de vita doctrina et facultate Nederlandorum qui carmina latina composuerunt, 2nd ed. (Lugduni Batavorum/Leiden: apud H.W. Hazenberg et socios, 1843), 72. 15 Ian D. McFarlane, “George Buchanan’s Latin Poems from Script to Print: A Preliminary Survey,” The Library, 24 (1969): 302. For the text of the poem, see George Buchanan, The Political Poetry, ed. & trans. Paul J. McGinnis and Arthur H. Williamson (Edinburgh: Scottish History Society, 1995), 184-245. 16 Philip J. Ford and W.S. Watt, George Buchanan, Prince of Poets; with an Edition (Text, Translation, Commentary) of the Miscellaneorum liber (Aberdeen: Aberdeen University Press, 1982), 55-62. 17 Thomas Naogeorgus, Satyrarum libri quinque priores (Basileae/Basel: Per Ioannem Oporinum, 1555), and In catalogum haereticorum nuper Romae editum, Thomae Naogeorgi satyra ([n.p.: n. pub], 1559). 14

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consisting solely of biblical and extra-biblical narratives with an implicit moral lesson; for example, one narrates the disobedience and fall of the angels (III.1). Larger collections of satire lend themselves naturally to diverse styles as the poets attempt to avoid monotony and excessive repetition of the same material. Naogeorgus also incorporated invective into his satire, for example, into a long satire written against Archbishop Giovanni della Casa (1503–1556).18 The Italian archbishop was most likely chosen as a target for his personal involvement in stamping out Lutheranism in the 1540s in Venice.19 Nicodemus Frischlin (1547–1590) was another German Protestant satirist who wrote eight religious satires in an invective mode. Although published later, these were likely written around 1567–1568.20 These satires inveighed against Johann Jakob Rabe (ca. 1546–1596), the son of a Protestant pastor, educated at Tübingen and Wittenberg before converting to Roman Catholicism and eventually joining the Jesuit order. Rabe was also the target of satirist Johann Fischart’s (1546–1591) Nachtrab oder Nebelkräh (1570) written in German. Undoubtedly as a consequence of the proliferation of print was the appearance of single verse satires issued as polemical pamphlets in addition to larger collections of satires. One poet who adapted religious satire to the new pamphlet form was Simon Sten (1540–1619) who, under the name Achilles Clavigerus, published a 128-line pamphlet satire against a Catholic theologian named Johann Faber.21 Simon Sten also composed a second pamphlet satire under his own name, entitled Palinodia satyrica.22 The title of this work indicates that it was recited publically in Heidelberg prior to its publication, indicating another mode of presenting satire utilized by early modern poets—oral delivery to a university audience; a method of reinforcing and strengthening the audience’s religious commitment through collectively witnessing the performance. Sten’s second poem targets Jacob Gretser (1562–1625), a German Jesuit and prolific writer, whose works included polemical writings against the Lutherans. Gretser was incidentally made the subject of another satire—a pamphlet 18

Thomas Naogeorgus, De dissidiis componendis, ad Mathiam Bredenbachium (Basel: [Iohannes Oporinus], 1559), 101-129. 19 Antonio Santosuosso, “The Moderate Inquisitor: Giovanni Della Casa’s Venetian Nunciature, 1544–1549,” Studi veneziani, 2 (1978): 119-210. 20 David Friedrich Strauss, Leben und Schriften des Dichters und Philologen Nicodemus Frischlin (Frankfurt am Main: J. Rütten, 1856), 22-24. 21 Simon Sten, Achillis Clavigeri Veronensis satyra in novam discordem concordiam Bergensem (Lugduni Batavorum/Leiden: per Henrichum Hatstam, 1582). 22 Sten Simon, Palinodia satyrica [...] publice recitata Heidelbergae in Iacobi Greitseri Iesuitae et universae Societatis gratiam et honorem (n.p., 1607).

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satire entitled Gratserus Hipomanes satira (1616)—which also attacked the founder of the Jesuit order, Ignatius of Loyola (1491–1556) and his followers.23 Remarkably, Sten’s second performed and published satire elicited a detailed rebuttal by Gretser himself. Gretser sought both to refute the content of the satire itself and to deny that the poem could have a place in the satire genre. He wrote: “The satire [by Sten] is nothing other than a never-ending calumny.”24 As satire is a moral genre and a satirist is a chastiser of vice, Gretser denies the poem against him merits inclusion in the genre at all. Rather, he reclassifies the poem against himself as a “calumny,” an unjust and sinful slander. And Gretser was not the only notable theologian to offer a refutation to a satire: Robert Bellarmine (1542–1621) dedicated a few pages of a longer theological work to refute what he describes as an anonymous book of fifty-one satires written in Italian verse.25 It is therefore possible to conclude that the contents of satirical works could potentially be taken seriously in theological discourse, and stimulate religious debate and response from the theologians chastised. It is in this context of religious debate that Gamerius wrote his own satires which undertake polemical attacks on the doctrines and theologians of the Reformation. His satire, De reliquiis sanctorum, which was numbered six in later editions, was his first satire to appear in print, appearing as a single pamphlet in 1564. It begins: Usque adeone suis serpens vetus ille Sathanas Praestigiis homines et spectro ludit inani: Ut male damnandum scelus et peccata secuti Relliquias etiam nullo dignentur honore? (VIII.1-4) Does that ancient serpent Satan dupe men so utterly with his deceptions and empty illusion that those following the path of damnable wickedness and sin have no reverence even for relics?

The phrase “usque adeone” was borrowed from the poet Persius (I.26), though in spite of such classical trimmings, the diction of this poem is thoroughly reclothed in early modern Christian terms. It was the tradi23

Christianus Nicius Aelysius, Gratserus Hipomanes satira ([n.p., n. pub.], 1616). “Satyra nil aliud est quam nusquam interrupta calumnia.” Jacob Gretser, “Lithi Myseni satyra palinodica commentario illustrata,” in I. Virgidemia Volciana. II. Antistrena Polycarpica. [...] (Ingolstadii/Ingolstadt: ex typographeo Adami Sartorii, 1608), 381-382. 25 “[...] quae Satyras quinquaginta et unam Italicis rithmis comprehendat.” Roberto Francesco Romolo Bellarmino, De indulgentiis, iubileo libri duo (Lugduni/Leiden: apud Ioannem Pillehotte, 1599), 73. For Bellarmine’s entire response, see 73-75. 24

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tional aim of Roman satire to castigate the social mores and vices (vitia) of pagan Rome, whereas it is Gamerius’s purpose to challenge the sinfulness (scelus et peccata) of his contemporaries and, in particular, the proliferators of heretical opinion. Thus, Gamerius adjusts the moral framework of the ancient genre to suit his moral and religious purpose, primarily the refutation of heresy. His concern lies not merely with public morals, but also the fate of souls threatened by false doctrines. In his various satires Gamerius borrows diction, phrasing, and rhetorical effects such as hyperbole and the haranguing rhetorical question, from all three Roman satirists. The metre of Roman satire was the dactylic hexameter of heroic verse, although the ancient poets distinguished their verse from the epic mode by their employment of a “conversational” or “prosaic” (“pedester”) style, which allowed lines to end with longer words of four or sometimes five syllables, which is more frequently than occurs in epic verse. In addition, satire more often than other genres in dactylic verse, employed lines ending with monosyllabic words, frequently words such as “sit,” “ni,” “ne,” “et si,” or “ac si,” which are used to start a sentence clause that is continued in the following verse—a form of enjambment more typical of satire than other genres.26 Although the critical literature of this period seldom refers to these elements of satirical verse composition, in practice roughly half of sixteenth-century Neo-Latin satirists imitated these metrical features in their own verse. Occasionally, Gamerius followed the ancient practice, though usually he did not, and so, metrically speaking, his satire seldom departs from the standard pattern for dactylic hexameters. It is not particularly notable that Gamerius did not imitate certain metrical elements of ancient satire in his own verse, preferring to write hexameters as early modern poets were trained to write in any genre. But it is possible that Gamerius wished to avoid the conversational style of ancient satire, choosing to keep his own poems in a more sententious mode, rather than the lower generic register which was traditionally the place of satire. Due to the import he placed on the religious doctrines at stake, Gamerius also avoids the classical precedent of peppering his verses with obscene diction, which he eschews even when doggedly attacking his opponents or labelling them as madmen or liars. In one of the prefatory epistles Gamerius claims that he imitates not only the classical satirists but also the Hebrew prophets in admonishing his contemporaries.27 In doing so, Gamerius brings together the ancient 26

David S. Raven, Latin Metre: An Introduction (London: Faber & Faber, 1965), 102. “Ego enim, uti Horatius, Persius et Iuvenalis in suis faciunt sermonibus vel Satyris, non levia vel communia taxo simpliciter hominum vitia vel mores: sed cum Propheta Dei voce admonitus aut potius instigatus clamo et non cesso: quasi tuba attollens vo27

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satirists’ reproof of their own compatriots and his own pious motives. However, Gamerius was not alone in linking his satire with Christian or biblical writers. The aforementioned Thomas Naogeorgus, for example, in a preface to his own satires, mentioned the patristic and ecclesiastical writers, as well as the prophets and apostles and Christ’s own attacks on hypocrisy and the Pharisees, in his list of satirical precursors.28 Gamerius’s suggestion that his satire is connected with the works of the prophets in their chastisements of the ancient Israelites provides a Christian justification to his working in a pagan genre. Gamerius states the target of his satires: Who are those sinners, you seek? Heretics. Who are those deceivers? Heretics. It is heretics, whose names I ridicule. They are heretics whom I carp at.29

This passage demonstrates effectively the nature of Gamerius’s satire and signals his engagement with religious controversy. The theological nature of Gamerius’s satires is exemplified in the comments appended to many of his satires. These notes, printed in the margins, provide references to biblical passages, theological works, and religious controversies, including some references and folio numbers to refuted Protestant theological works, which the reader is thus invited to examine and to find support or justification for the satirist’s argument. These references naturally support the author’s arguments and, in addition, provide a frame of reference for the religious debate in which these satires participate. Gamerius’s second satirical publication was Satyra de merito Christi (1566), addressed to Henry Sylvius of Amsterdam. The poem begins: O quis erit Sylvi (totum circumspice mundum) Tam vitii patiens, tam vulgi fautor inepte, Ut mala conspiciens humanae crimina gentis Non clamet subito: dolor heu? proh Iuppiter? o dii? Si taceam caedes, periuria, furta, rapinas, cem meam annuncio populo scelera sua.” (For indeed, I do not merely criticize people’s vices and mores as Horace, Persius, and Juvenal had done in their sermones or satires, but—as the prophet admonishes, or rather incites, with the voice of God—I shout out and refuse to hold back. Raising my voice like a trumpet, I declare to the people their sins [Isaiah 58,1].) Gamerius, Satyra contra impudens Schmidlini mendacium, A3r. 28 “Omnes prophetae & apostoli.” Naogeorgus, Satyrarum libri quinque priores, 6. 29 Gamerius, Satyra contra impudens Schmidlini mendacium, A3r: “Qui vero peccatores isti sint, quaeris? haeretici. Qui deceptores isti sint, rogas? haeretici. Haeretici sunt, quorum nomina traduco. Haeretici sunt, quos carpo.”

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Chapter Seven Cumque latrociniis scurrarum facta nefandis: Haereticis certe, quorum temeraria mens est Continuo bellum superis inferre parata, Tot scelerum causis ego non ignoscere possum. (IX.1-9) If I am silent about heretics, whose reckless minds are prepared to make war incessantly on the heavens and whom I certainly cannot excuse since they are the cause of murders, perjuries, thefts, robberies, debauchers’ villainies, and abominable crimes, who will it be, Henry (look round the entire world), who is so tolerant of sin, so senseless an admirer of the mob, that observing the wicked crimes of the humanity does not suddenly shout “o the anguish! for the love of God! oh gods!”?

The second line echoes Horace: “Quis tam Lucili fautor inepte est” (Who admires Lucilius so ineptly, I.10.2). The repeated use of the rhetorical question is a typical feature of Roman satire, and the first satires of all three Roman poets commence with the same sort of repeated questioning. Also present in this passage is an uncommon instance of Gamerius employing a “satirical’’ line-ending with the double monosyllabic “mens est” at the end of line seven. Social upheaval is a typical theme in ancient satire. The root of all social disorder in Gamerius’s satire stems from heresy. This is why in his next two satires, published as Satyrae duae (1568) without reference to their printer or place of publication, Gamerius asserts that there is no concord between the Catholic faith and the religion of the Protestant reformers. In particular, he there attacks the writings of the Lutheran theologian Jakob Andreae (1528– 1590). The concordia he attacks in these works is the general consensus, suggested in statements such as the Augsburg Confession, which Gamerius claims only provide a veneer of agreement that masks the contradictions and dissension amongst the reformers themselves. He often contrasts this disunity with the visible unity of the Catholic religion. In Gamerius’s satires heresy is the root cause of social chaos, and any accommodation with it can only lead to social and political disorder, and this Gamerius sees reflected in the Calvinist and Lutheran divide as well as in more discrete divisions amongst reformers who appear publically united and in agreement. Gamerius’s next book, entitled Satyra contra impudens Iac. Andr. Schmidlini de Lutheranorum concordia mendacium (1569), was a larger collection of six satires, which reprinted his satire De reliquiis sanctorum along with five new satires, launching a series of theological assaults on the reformers. After this, a new pamphlet entitled Irenarchus sive satyra (1570) appeared which was addressed to both the princes and inhabitants of Germany; it contained a satire directed against Luther and Johannes

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Brenz (1499–1570). This pamphlet contains a prefatory letter which explains that the purpose of his satire is to be both truthful and pious, to admonish and correct sinners, and “to call heretics back to their senses” (ad meliorem mentem revocentur haeretici).30 Ancient satire often depicted the wicked as lunatics and linked the restoration of moral order with the recovery of sanity.31 Gamerius’s last surviving satirical work was a single volume, Demonstratio Lutheranos esse et semper fore Catholicos (1572), that collected his satires from Satyrae duae (1568) and Satyra contra impudens Iac. Andr. Schmidlini de Lutheranorum concordia mendacium into one volume, along with some other compositions, including two “spongiae adversus aspergines” (sponges to wipe out bespatterings; i.e., rebuttals) addressed to those who challenged his prior publications: the first against an obscure Wolfgang Martius, described as a private citizen of Augsburg, and the second against Jakob Andreae.32 Another satire, the satire placed first in later volumes, entitled Satyra de Lutheranorum concordia, begins with another barrage of rhetorical questions: An vero Schmidline tibi fabricata maligne Semper et usque adeo tua sunt mendacia curae, Ut qui vera sciens, tanquam sint falsa, negares, Et qui falsa videns tanquam sint vera probares? At quibus e scopulis, quibus es de cautibus ortus? Quasve tenes silicum natas in pectore venas? Cur mens est tam caeca tibi? cur tanta tenaci Durities in corde sedet? quin pectora ferro Propria tractando positis incudibus aptas? (I.1-9) Can it be, Jakob Andreae, your spitefully formed lies are always and ever so dear to you that, knowing what is true, you refused it just as if it were false, and you approved of what appears false, as if it were true? But from which rocks or crags were you born? Which veins made of rocks do you hold in your heart? Why is your mind so blind? Why does so great a hardness grip your stubborn heart? Why do you not set aside the anvil and make your own breast a place for drawing iron?

This inveighing satire places the Lutheran theologian Jakob Andreae (“Schmiedlein”) in the role of the silent interlocutor and subject of abuse. This dialogic form and rhetorical questioning is reminiscent of the satires which commenced the collections of all three classical satirists. Also evident 30

Gamerius, Irenarchus sive satyra, A6r. See Kivistö, Medical Analogy, 1 et passim. 32 Gamerius, Demonstratio Lutheranos, D6v-F8v. 31

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in this passage is the poet’s borrowing from other Neo-Latin works. In one instance, this is from Jacopo Sannazaro’s (1458–1530) De morte Christi domini ad mortales lamentatio: Vosne pedes, coelum premere et vaga sidera sueti, fulgentesque domos superum, sublimia tecta, tam saevae immanes perpessi cuspidis ictus, et terram et duras sparsistis sanguine cautes? Nec trepidat mens caeca hominum? Quae tanta tenaci durities in corde riget? . . . . (52-57) And you, feet wont to tread the heavens and the wandering stars and the shining homes, lofty dwellings of the gods, after you endured the monstrous blows of the savage spear, did you spatter the earth and the hard boulders with blood? And does the blind mind of man not tremble? What great hardness grips his stubborn heart?33

In Sannazaro’s poem only mental blindness and hardness of heart prevent one from trembling at the death of Christ, whereas in Gamerius’s poem the reformer’s heart is hardened and his mind is blinded to the veracity of Roman Catholic doctrine. The reminiscence of Sannazaro’s poem provides an allusive connection between obstinacy to Christ’s sacrifice and obstinacy in adhering to heretical opinion. Common to the themes of ancient satire is discordia, whether social disruption or a lack of mental or moral harmony.34 Gamerius draws a connection between discord and the lack of concord which lies within the theological disagreements of the reformers. In this poem, Jakob Andreae asserts the existence of a spiritual unity amongst the Protestant theologians: “Non Evangelicas vexat discordia mentes, Sed neque vel minimis oritur dissensio rebus: Si tamen inter eas videatur frivola nasci Quaestio de dubiis sine fructu mota quibusdam, Tunc illaesa fides manet et confessio vera Obtinet antiquum, velut ante, per omnia florem.” Sic ais, at quali tua sint cum pondere verba, Use dolis magnis, ego te, Schmidline, docebo. (I.26-33). “Discord does not trouble evangelical minds, nor is there any dissension, even in the least important matters. But even if amongst themselves they 33

Jacopo Sannazaro, Latin Poetry, trans. Michael C. J. Putnam (Cambridge, MA–London: Harvard University Press, 2009), 96-97. 34 Cf. Horace, Serm. I.4.60.

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[the reformers] seem to beget trifling and fruitless disagreements concerning certain dubious points, their faith remains inviolate and the true confession, just as before, retains its integrity in everything.” So you say, Jakob Andreae, who are accustomed to employing great deceits, but I will show you what your words are worth.

Gamerius declares that he will unravel this affirmation of unity as asserted by Andreae and reflected in the Augsburg Confession. Gamerius then highlights discrepancies in Protestant works, and especially the division between Calvin and Zwingli and the Lutherans. Social disorder is a central theme of classical satire, and Gamerius utilized this theme to target the discord between the tenets of differing reformers themselves and asserted that their movement itself has sown greater disharmony both throughout society and even within the spiritual realm, rending apart Christ’s body, the church. Gamerius utilized satire in order to engage in religious controversy and refute Protestant heresy, yet he couched his polemical works in the style and diction of ancient satire. Although imitating the classical genre, he reinvented the genre in a novel way in order to engage in a form of religious controversy rooted in his own time. The topicality inherent in the genre allowed itself to be updated for contemporary concerns. For example, in his fifth satire on sacrilege, Gamerius complains of Lutherans despoiling churches and provides biblical arguments in support of lavish churches, comparing the sacrifice of the Mass with the sacrifices of Abel, Moses, David, Solomon, and in particular noting the munificence of the Temple of Solomon in comparison with the riches of the churches at Rome. This method of argument, supporting one’s position with appeal to biblical example and textual authority, has little to do with classical satire, though it is not an unusual one for an apologist. The link with the classical genre in this satire, however, is preserved only in the metrical form, the odd borrowing from the Roman satirists, and the author’s moral intent. Gamerius was not the only Renaissance poet to turn to satire in NeoLatin, nor the only such poet to write on religious controversy. Gamerius was, however, unusual insofar as he wrote a collection of ten satires published throughout numerous editions. Although their scope was relatively narrow in that they all engage in challenging the claims and doctrines of the reformers. These poems also point to the novel way in which polemical theology could be written, dressed in the language and metre of the classical genre, whilst in fact remaining works of apologetics and controversy. Gamerius combined the roles of satirist and polemicist into one. Their form, however, effectively rendered the subject matter more lively and poetical. Although Gamerius’s verse is not of the highest

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literary order, it is an interesting artefact of its time as it evinces a combined interest in both religious debate and poetry. In terms of reception of ancient satire, it shows how a broad sense of the form and its moral intent could be utilized for pious purposes. In that sense, it is a Christianizing of the pagan genre. This also involved shying away from obscenity, though not from abusive diction nor from virulent criticism of one’s opponents. And it involved borrowing thematic elements, diction, and the odd phrasing from the classical satirists, although without any sustained attempt to copy their metrical practices or subject-matter. Inspired by the spirit of satire, his poems link together his chastisement of vice with the correction of religious error. Gamerius’s works engaged in polemical theology, but in a way that attempted to put it into an erudite and poetic form, albeit with an urgent moral purpose for which satire was eminently suitable.

List of his books containing verse satires: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

RS Relliquiae sanctorum (1564) DMC De merito Christi (1566) BL Bucolica Latina (1568) SD Satyrae duae (1568) SCI Satyra contra impudens Iac. Andr. Schmidlini de Lutheranorum concordia mendacium (1569) 6. IS Irenarchus sive satyra (1570) 7. DL Demonstratio Lutheranos esse et semper fore Catholicos (1572)

List of satires: I. Satyra de Lutheranorum concordia (SD, SCI, DL) II. Alia satyra ex eo nata, quod Lutherus in praefatione libri syngrammatum ait: mundus vult et debet falli (SD, SCI, DL) III. De scholarum sive academiarum origine (SCI, DL) IV. De spiritu veritatis et mendacii (SCI, DL) V. De sacrilegio, et qui veri sint sacrilegi (SCI, DL) VI. De incremento novi Evangelii (SCI, DL) VII. De annonae, et unde ea nata sit (SCI, DL) VIII. De reliquiis sanctorum (SCI, RS, DL) IX. Satyra de merito Christi, ad doctissimum virum Henricum Silvium patricium Amsterodamum (DMC, BL) X. Satyra ad Germaniae principes et incolas (IS)

CHAPTER EIGHT COUNTER-REFORMATION BEFORE ITS TIME: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY IN JAKOV BUNIû’S EPIC DE VITA ET GESTIS CHRISTI MAJA MATASOVIû

Introduction1 Jakov Buniü (Iacobus Bonus, 1469–1534) was a Croatian humanist poet from Dubrovnik (Ragusa). He came from a noble family and was educated in Dubrovnik, but also, as was customary at that time, in Padua and Bologna, visiting Rome at least twice in his lifetime. As a merchant and a man of means, he travelled extensively around the Mediterranean, including the Near East. Some descriptions of those lands—for example, the Holy Land—figure prominently in his works. He was also well respected in his native city, and on several occasions held public office.2

1

The idea for this research came about while working on another paper with a graduate student at Studia Croatica of the University of Zagreb, Ana Oreški, whose MA thesis also deals with some aspects of this epic (see below). I wish to thank her for all the time and discussions dedicated to Jakov Buniü and his works and ideas that intrigued us both. 2 On the life and works of Jakov Buniü, see Ĉuro Körbler, Jakov Buniü Dubrovþanin, latinski pjesnik, Rad Jugoslavenske akademije znanosti i umjetnosti 180 (Zagreb: Tisak Dioniþke tiskare, 1910); Branimir Glaviþiü, ed., Iacobus Bonus Racusaeus, De raptu Cerberi/De vita et gestis Christi (Zagreb: JAZU, 1978). See also Neven Jovanoviü, “Buniü, Jakov,” in Hrvatska književna enciklopedija I, ed. Velimir Viskoviü (Zagreb: Leksikografski zavod Hrvatske, 2010), https://bib.irb.hr /datoteka/242974.bunic-jak-jovanovic.doc; Zlata Bojoviü, “Humanistiþki i religiozni ep (Davidias Marka Maruliüa i De vita et gestis Jakova Buniüa),” Književna kritika 18, 4 (1987): 127-161.

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He is famous for his two epic poems written in Latin, the De raptu Cerberi and the De vita et gestis Christi (hereafter referred to as VGXr). The first one, published in Rome in 1490, and republished a couple of times, is a short mythological epic, most probably written as a kind of school exercise. On the other hand, Buniü devoted much more time— more than a quarter of a century—to write his other epic entitled De vita et gestis Christi; we know from the letters of his friend and relative Damjan Beneša that he was already working on it in 1500.3 It was published in Rome in 1526 and counts as one of the first epics in Western European humanist literature to recount the life of Christ in verse. The epic VGXr is, as can be seen from the included dedicatory poems, composed in the spirit of Catholic reform. Although it was written before the Counter-Reformation per se, which is usually considered as beginning with the Council of Trent in 1545, we can understand it as an early Catholic response to the Reformation activities of the early sixteenth century. The purpose of this essay is to explore the way in which the principles of Catholic faith could be moulded into the framework of humanist literary norms, as well as to identify certain fundamental themes of the Reformation polemics which were incorporated within the epic. I will show how the composition and especially the motifs of Buniü’s epic reflected the main religious arguments discussed throughout Europe during this time of change.

1. De vita et gestis Christi 1.a Composition The De vita et gestis Christi extends to over 10,000 hexameters in sixteen books.4 The division of the epic into books symbolically follows Christian, and more specifically, Catholic theology and doctrine. The first nine books of the epic are called Chori, divided into three Hierarchiae, named after the angel choirs: I. 1. Seraphin, 2. Cherubin, 3. Throni; II. 4. Dominationes, 5. Principatus, 6. Potestates; III. 7. Virtutes, 8. Archangeli, 9. An-

3

I wish to thank Vlado Rezar, University of Zagreb, for this information. The text of the De vita et gestis Christi is available on the website of the CroALa project, http://www.ffzg.unizg.hr/klafil/croala/. The Bible is quoted in this essay according to the Vulgate version, http://www.biblegateway.com/. Sannazaro’s De partu virginis is available through The Latin Library project, http://www.thelatinlibrary.com/sannazaro1.html. 4

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geli.5 The second part comprises seven books, Dona, dedicated to the gifts of the Holy Spirit arranged in the order in which it would be best to receive them, since one leads to the other: Timor, Pietas, Scientia, Fortitudo, Consilium, Intellectus, Sapientia. The numbers themselves are relevant, because the number nine, among other things, represents God’s completeness—that is, the number of persons in the Holy Trinity multiplied by itself—while seven stands for fullness and perfection, since it is composed from three (divine persons) and four (sides of the world). Between individual books there are also a couple of dedicatory poems in Sapphic stanzas and hendecasyllabic verses. After each Hierarchy there is a song dedicated, respectively, to God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, who are also the recipients of the last three poems after each of the last three Gifts. The poems after the first four Gifts celebrate Mary as the Mother Virgin, the Mother of Piety, the Mother of Knowledge, and the Mother of Fortitude, of which the last three match the titles of the respective books. The importance of these verses devoted to Mary will be touched upon below. Buniü’s epic adheres closely to the Gospels, sometimes also to the Epistles, the Psalms, and other books of the Bible, though there are some exceptions. One of these exceptions, and maybe the most impressive, is the episode found at the very beginning, where Buniü recounts a council in the sky in which the necessity of a saviour for men is debated, and in doing so he follows the tradition of councils described in the Odyssey or the Aeneid. After this, beginning with the Annunciation to the Blessed Virgin Mary, the epic more or less chronologically follows the Gospels, relying for the most part on the order used by Matthew, but at the same time drawing extensively from others—for example, relying on Luke for accounts of Christ’s birth and early childhood, and John for speeches on the Eucharist and descriptions of the Passion of Christ.

1.b Context Religious epics narrating the life of Christ already existed in Christian antiquity, and Buniü was relying on that tradition, especially on the Evangeliorum libri quattuor by Juvencus.6 But, being a humanist, he also had 5

The commonly accepted angelic hierarchy is based on the works De coelesti hierarchia by Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite and Summa Theologica of St Thomas Aquinas (it is probably justifiable to consider that Buniü was familiar with Aquinas’s work). 6 Körbler, Jakov Buniü, 131-133. For the ways how Christian authors adapted the Roman epic tradition see, for example, Roger P. H. Green, Latin Epics of the New

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an advantage unavailable to early Christian epic authors—namely, the abundance of pagan literary imagery, and the freedom to use pagan deities and conceptions in a purely metaphorical sense. The pagan religion was still too much alive in Late Antiquity for Christian authors to use it freely. Another important source of influence for Buniü’s epic was the Christian tradition of Latin church hymns; this helped shape the language and style of various parts of his poem, especially the paraphrases of the Psalms and the author’s own eulogies, such as those on the Eucharist, as also discussed below.7 Buniü’s VGXr was one of the first humanist epics to describe the life of Christ, but he was not alone. In the late fifteenth and the early sixteenth century in Europe, a number of epic poems in hexameters on biblical or ecclesiastical subjects were produced. It can be assumed that these projects, whilst conceived of by the authors themselves, were also ones in which popes had their share. Some of these authors had evidently been encouraged by popes to use Latin verses, a very popular medium at the time, in order to promote the Catholic religion. These Latin epics which dealt with various aspects of the life of Christ, but also with Mary, include the Parthenice Mariana by Battista Mantovano (1447–1516), published in Bologna in 1481; the epyllion De triumpho Christi by Macario Muzio (ca. 1440–1515), published in Venice in 1499; the Christidos libri X by Humbertus Montismoretanus (ca. 1460–ca. 1525), published in Lyon around 1520; the Thalichristia by Alvaro Gomez de Ciudad Real (1488–1538), printed in Alcalà in 1522; the De partu Virginis by Jacopo Sannazaro (1458–1530), released in Naples in 1526; the Evangelicae historiae sive de Deo homine libri IV published by Battista Fiera (1469–1538) in Basel in 1535; and finally, a work that effectively became a bestseller, the Christias of Marco Girolamo Vida (ca.1485–1566), which appeared in Cremona in 1535. In Croatia, two other religious epics were written at this time—the Davidias written in 1517 as an allegory of Christ in the character of King David by Marko Maruliü from Split (1450–1524) and the De morte Christi

Testament: Juvencus, Sedulius, Arator (Oxford University Press, 2007); David Andrew Collier, Nam mihi carmen erit Christi vitalia gesta: book one of the Evangeliorum libri iv of Juvencus and the evolution of Latin epic in late antiquity (Columbia: University of Missouri, MA thesis 2008), http://hdl.handle.net/10355/5784. On the authors of antiquity who influenced Buniü’s epic, see Petra Šoštariü, “Ponovljene klauzule antiþkih pisaca u epu De vita et gestis Christi Jakova Buniüa,” Latina et Graeca 22 (2013): 49-56. 7 Ana Oreški, Utjecaj crkvenih latinskih himana na ep De vita et gestis Christi Jakova Buniüa (Zagreb: Hrvatski studiji Sveuþilišta u Zagrebu, MA thesis, 2014).

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finished after 1535 by Damjan Beneša from Dubrovnik (1476–1539)—but these remained unpublished until very recently.8 During the period of more than twenty-five years in which Buniü was composing the VGXr, the Catholic Church was undergoing profound change. Although the process began already in the fifteenth century, the advent of Martin Luther in 1517 accelerated it. The idea that the Catholic Church, especially the Roman Curia, needed to be reformed came from within, and was intensely discussed at the councils in Constance (1414– 1418), and in Basel and Ferrara-Florence (1431–1442), as well as at the Fifth Council of the Lateran (1512–1517). This reform impetus was accentuated by the movement of Jan Hus (ca. 1369–1415) and the Hussites who advocated, among other things, communion under both kinds, and in fact exercised this right, with intermittent permissions of the Catholic Church, until the early seventeenth century. In fifteenth-century Europe there flourished yet another movement, the Devotio Moderna, which invited lay people to inner devotion, prayer and meditation as a means to enhance their own personal religious experience. It is interesting to note that Marko Maruliü, the abovementioned author of the epic Davidias and also considered the father of Croatian literature, translated into Croatian the famous work De imitatione Christi by Thomas à Kempis (ca. 1380–1471), one of the most important writers of the Devotio Moderna. Reflections on the message Christ held for each man also formed the basis for some other very popular Renaissance works of biblical exegesis, in particular the work of Erasmus of Rotterdam (1466– 1536), especially his edition of the New Testament and the Adnotationes accompanying it. Erasmus considered that critical examination of the Gos8

Cf. Jacob Burckhardt, The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy (London: George Allen & Unwin; New York: Macmillan Co., 1890; Project Gutenberg 2014), 104, http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2074/2074-h/2074-h.htm; Heinz Hofmann, “Epos in der neulateinischen Literatur,” in Von Göttern und Menschen erzählen: Formkonstanzen und Funktionswandel vormoderner Epik, ed. Jörg Rüpke (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2001), 167-168; Jozef Ijsewijn and Dirk Sacré, eds., Companion to Neo-Latin Studies, part 2: Literary, Linguistic, Philological and Editorial Questions (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1998), 29-30; Vladimir Rezar, “De morte Christi Damjana Beneše,” in Damjan Beneša: De morte Christi, ed. Vladimir Rezar (Zagreb: Ex libris, 2006), 41; Marco Girolamo Vida, Christiad, trans. James Gardner, ed. James Hankins, I Tatti Renaissance Library (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009), X; Branimir Glaviþiü, ed., Davidias / Marko Maruliü Dalmatinac (Zagreb: JAZU, 1974). For the argument that Buniü was reading Muzio’s work while composing his epic, see Neven Jovanoviü, “Maruliü’s Marginalia on Macario Muzio,” Colloquia Maruliana 21, no. 21 (2012): 109-139.

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pels revealed to us the “philosophy of Christ.” This desire to rediscover the meaning that the “Good News” held for each individual Christian, to educate them in the truths of the Christian faith, and to rekindle their personal religious feelings is revealed throughout Renaissance literature, and consequently it is also found in religious epics. The authors of these epics sought to reach every corner of the civilized world, regardless of the national borders, and so, by using Latin, they circumvented the problem of various vernacular languages. By choosing the epic form, they chose the most honoured form of poetry in antiquity, and also the one that was used to tell religious stories of heroes, both mythological and historical; the form into which the life and acts of the Son of God—as analogous to the gesta, or deeds, of heroes—fits perfectly. The fifteenth century also witnessed attempts at reconciliation with the Greek Orthodox Church (1439), efforts which would unify Christians before the onslaught of the Ottoman Turks. The idea of Christian reconciliation was probably close to Buniü’s heart since he was living in a city whose territory was on the border with the Ottomans, who in 1526, the year of the publication of VGXr, achieved one of the greatest victories over the Croatian-Hungarian Kingdom on the field southwest of Mohács. The turn of the century in Europe was also a time of various anti-Semitic movements, especially in Portugal, Spain (the Expulsion of the Jews in 1492), and parts of the German-speaking world, and it was customary to find derogatory remarks against “the killers of Christ” in the literature of the time.9 Buniü’s stance on Jews will be briefly discussed below. There are three Reformation works that need to be mentioned since they also reflect the most important religious issues of the time: Luther’s Disputatio, or the ninety-five theses, made public in 1517; his Wittemberg commentary on the Magnificat from 1521, in which Luther expressed his stance on Mary, who, according to him, deserves respect, but not devotion; and the Formula Concordiae, or the concord of the Wittenberg Synod held in 1536, a document in which the reformers’ views on the Eucharist were systematized. It is likely that Buniü was familiar with the first two. The Holy Communion, on the other hand, was certainly a subject of dispute for 9

For the situation in the Catholic Church and various movements in the fifteenth century, see Hubert Jedin, ed., Velika povijest Crkve III/II: Od crkvenog zrelog srednjeg vijeka do predveþerja reformacije (Zagreb: Kršüanska sadašnjost, 1993), 484-692 (on Erasmus and the philosophy of Christ, see 690-692); Robert Holjevac: Ivan Stojkoviü i njegovo doba (Zagreb: Hrvatski institut za povijest, 2004). For tendencies in Renaissance religious philosophy and literature, see John Hale: The Civilization of Europe in the Renaissance (New York: Atheneum, 1994), especially 189-202, 282.

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a long time before 1536, so it is not surprising that this theme plays a significant role in Buniü’s epic.10

2. Buniü and the Counter-Reformation 2.a References in the 1526 Edition It is usually said that the VGXr was written in the spirit of the CounterReformation, which tends to be associated with an event that took place some twenty years later—the Council of Trent. Buniü had various connections in Rome and his poems were read and approved by certain cardinals, including Oliviero Carafa (1430–1511), Agostino Trivulzio (1485– 1548), and Egidio da Viterbo (1469–1532), so we can be fairly certain that his project should be understood within the context of the evolving Reformation movement. We also know that he received incitement from two popes, Leo X (1475–1521) and Clement VII (1478–1534), to write a poem in a truly Catholic spirit, and one that would respect the accurate teachings of the church.11 In the texts that accompany the edition of VGXr there is evidence that Buniü’s counter-reformative intentions enjoyed official support. At the start of the book there is a message from Pope Clement VII to his “beloved son, Jacobus Bonus” in which he sends his blessing and threatens to punish all those who dare to publish the poem without Buniü’s permission. Among several dedicatory poems that follow, one is addressed to Pope Clement VII and the Holy Roman emperor Charles V (1500– 1558). It contains these verses: Ignibus heus alte modo te succinge coruscis Sordentesque luto piceae Stygis ure Luteros. (First dedicatory poem, 39-40)12 O, just gird yourself with flashing fire from above, and burn the Lutherans, filthy from the mud of the dark hell.

These verses clearly underscore Buniü’s aversion to the new movement, for he asks the Emperor to “burn the Lutherans, filthy from the mud of the dark hell.”13 10 For the Reformation and Counter-Reformation, see Erwin Iserloh, Josef Glazik, Hubert Jedin, eds., Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte IV: Reformation. Katholische Reform und Gegenreformation (Freiburg/Basel/Wien: Herder Verlag, 1967). 11 On Buniü’s connections with Rome, see Körbler, Jakov Buniü, 67-77. 12 The pages preceding the text of the epic are unnumbered in the 1526 edition.

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Papal support is also in evidence in the inscription on the last page, which includes the following words: “Cum gratia et privilegio sanctissimi Domini nostri Clementis VII Pontificis Maximi,”14 a sentiment which fully encapsulates the pope’s favour and sympathy for the work. Buniü thanked Pope Clement VII by making Clementia, the personified Grace of God, one of the main characters in the first book of his epic.15

2.b References in the Epic Itself What exactly is meant by the observation that the work is written in the spirit of the Counter-Reformation? Since the subject of this research is an epic poem, we cannot expect to find direct philosophical and theological arguments against the claims of the Reformation. It is probable, however, that we will encounter references to the main topics that arose in the debates between the Catholics and the Protestants. In addition, from the way in which these topics were covered we can also try to deduce the attitudes behind them. The topics that can be expected to appear in the epic De vita et gestis Christi are the following: • the Eucharist, or more specifically, the question of transubstantiation versus consubstantiation, but also the issue of communion under both kinds; • devotion to Mary and/or the saints; • the role of God’s grace in human salvation; • the issue of existence of purgatory; • the principles of sola scriptura, sola fide, sola gratia; • expressions of clericalism and anti-clericalism. Examples of all these topics, and certain others that had begun to emerge, are reviewed here.

13 He uses the name Styx (i.e., the river in the Greek and Roman underworld) when speaking of hell. This shows us how thoroughly embedded the imagery of ancient mythology was in Christian humanist literature (cf. the use of “Ceres” for the Holy Bread below). 14 “With the grace and privilege of Our Most Holy Lord Clement VII, Supreme Pontiff.” 15 Cf. Jovanoviü, “Jakov Buniü,” 2.

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I. The Eucharist The subject of the Eucharist in the VGXr is overwhelmingly represented through the motif of the Holy Bread, a very prominent one throughout the epic. The Holy Wine, on the other hand, appears only during the Last Supper. The pre-eminence of bread could perhaps be interpreted as Buniü’s commitment to the Catholic view of communion under only one kind. More significant is the importance (in length and details) that Buniü assigned to every single episode of the Gospels where the body of Christ or the eating of bread are mentioned. Buniü has even been reprimanded for “mistakenly” narrating the multiplication of bread twice.16 However, the fact is that the Gospels contain two miracles of multiplication: one for 5,000 people (Mk 6:30-44, Mt 14:13-21, Lk 9:10-17, Jn 6:1-14), and the other for 4,000 (Mk 8:1-10, Mt 15:32-9). Buniü faithfully describes both of them (IX, 318-352 and XI, 484-519). After the episode of the multiplication of bread, book nine of VGXr contains a long paraphrase of Christ’s speech on himself being the bread of life, which is based on the account in the Gospel of John, chapter six, and extends over verses 420-490 in Buniü’s version. This is followed by the author’s own eulogy to the Holy Bread, written in a style of language that echoes the Christian liturgical tradition:17 Salue sancta Ceres, uno qua semina grano Multa fluunt, aliis in terrae uentre peremptis, Vna farina uenit gemino contrita molari, Vna fit alma Ceres, huius farragine grana Multa uigent, unusque coit per uiscera sanguis, Spiritus unus inest hoc magno in corpore Christi. Viuimus hoc omnes, hoc uno pascimur omnes. Coniungit quot pacis amor, quot roborat artus, Mutua tot sancto capiti sua membra cohaerent. Adsis, o, sacrosancta mihi communio uitae, Vniar hac tecum, tecum flagrantius urar. (VGXr, IX, 491-501) Hail, holy Ceres, by whose virtue one grain brings forth many, while other grains perish in the earth’s womb. One substance of flour is ground by two mill-stones, whereby the nourishing Ceres [again] becomes one. In the mixture of her flour, many grains continue to exist and one blood circulates within their collective body. There is one Spirit in this great body of Christ. We all live by this one Spirit, we all are nurtured by him. All the compo16 17

Körbler, Jakov Buniü, 128. Cf. 1 Cor 12:12-14; the medieval Communion hymn Jesu Deus amor meus, etc.

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The importance of this hymn is accentuated by its placement at the very end of the first part of the epic (Chori). The most important episode concerning the Eucharist is of course the Last Supper, whose description takes most of book fourteen of VGXr. The main part of the Last Supper is the blessing and the distribution of bread (and wine), which, in Buniü’s words, proceeds as follows: Sumpta manu panis sacrauit ut azima frusta, Fratribus ipse suum corpus porrexit edendum, In uerbi uirtute, quibus sic totus inesset, Hocque sacrum fieri celebre et memorabile iussit. Quo creat ex nihilo mundum, quo semina rerum Condidit ore Deus, generatim et saecla propagat, Se de pane facit, qui uita est, nosque per ipsum In se conuertit, sacrae haec dulcedine mannae. (VGXr, XIV, 285-292) He consecrated unleavened pieces of bread, taking them in His hands, and then He distributed the bread, which had now become His body, among His brothers as food to eat. He did this by virtue of His word, so that the whole of His being was contained in the pieces of bread. And He commanded that this sacred rite be frequently commemorated. Using the same mouth by whose word God created the world out of nothing, by whose word God made the seeds of all things and continues to give life to further generations of all kinds of creatures, using the same mouth He, who is life, now makes Himself out of bread and converts us into Himself by the sweetness of this holy manna.

The phrase highlighted in bold—the one that reads in translation, “he makes Himself out of bread”—can be interpreted as expressing the idea of transubstantiation, as opposed to consubstantiation where Jesus and bread would coexist together. It may also be relevant that Vida’s Christias, a shorter and more famous epic dealing with the same subject as Buniü, written roughly at the same time, describes the miracle of multiplication only once (IV, 360387). Equally interesting is the fact that the account of the breaking and distribution of the bread at the Last Supper, which runs through twenty lines in Vida’s epic (II, 651-670), also includes a poetic expression of the 18

All translations are mine unless otherwise noted.

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doctrine of transubstantiation, referring to Christ as coming down from heaven and “entering into” the bread so that his body and blood can be sacrificed: Ipse sacerdotum verbis eductus ab astris Frugibus insinuat sese Regnator Olympi Libaturque Dei sacrum cum sanguine corpus. (Christias, II, 667-669) The lord of Olympus himself, drawn down from heaven by the words of the priests, enters into the meal, as the sacred body and blood of God are offered up.19

Buniü’s work clearly acknowledges the central role of the Holy Eucharist and reflects the importance of the issues it raised in his own time. Indeed, he takes the trouble to refer to the Catholic teachings on the subject every time that the Gospels provide the opportunity, and in doing so he emphasizes the difference between the Catholic and the Protestant stance on it. II. Mary Mary, the Mother of Christ, is the other main character in the poem that describes Christ’s life. The first three books, describing the Annunciation, the birth of Christ, the adoration of the Magi, and the childhood of Jesus, deal mostly with her. Buniü occasionally uses the apocryphal tradition in this part of his poem—for example, when he shows Mary bringing sacrifice together with her father at the moment Archangel Gabriel arrives (I, 319-323), or in the description of her engagement to Joseph (II, 21-38; Vida’s Christias has a similar story). Buniü not only alludes to Mary’s external beauty in a manner reminiscent of the way in which the heroines of antiquity were usually portrayed, but he also describes the Mother of God in accordance with the style of the Song of Songs when likening her to cedar and cypress (II, 195-204). Buniü characterizes her by the epithets of saint and divine, which would probably sound blasphemous to a reformer’s ear. Mary’s importance is accentuated by the fact that she is addressed as though she were an epic hero of antiquity, receiving the patronymic, or more precisely, the matronymic Annaeia/Annaeis (II, 252; III, 403). Following his section on the Annunciation, Buniü wrote a pane-

19

Translated by James Gardner, see Vida, Christiad, 103.

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gyric to Mary, imitating the style of his ode on the Eucharist and using the traditional language of Catholic liturgy: Salue magna parens,20 hominum Regina, Deumque, Vnica spes mundi, summi quoque Ianua Coeli, Et freta sulcantum non declinabile sydus .................................................................... O, mundi Regina potens, eia ergo pudico Sanguine da Christum populis, da gentibus aeuum Perpetuum, Stygiis lucemque effunde tenebris. (VGXr, II, 117-146) Hail, Great Parent, Queen of gods and men, who are the only hope of the world, the door of the supreme heaven, and the unsetting star for those who sail the seas! . . . O, mighty Queen of the world, give Christ, the fruit of your chaste blood, to the people. Bestow eternity on the nations and bring light into the darkness of the underworld.

In this section, Buniü refers to Mary as not only the “door of heaven,” but also the “Queen of gods and men,” “mighty Queen of the world,” and even more strikingly, “Goddess,” leaving no doubt about his commitment to the Catholic devotion to Mary. Such language seems strong even for Catholics, who worship God alone, but in order to understand it correctly we need to realize that it reflects the humanist practice of metaphorically re-using the notions of pagan antiquity. The first four books of the Dona were dedicated to Mary: Ad Matrem Virginem, Ad Matrem Pietatis, Ad Matrem Scientiae, and Ad Matrem Fortitudinis. The dedicatory poems for the nine books before and three after are addressed to the Holy Trinity. By framing Mary in this way, Buniü illustrated her role as the mediator between God and men.21 He also addressed her as an exemplary recipient of the gifts of the Holy Spirit— piety, knowledge, and fortitude—which bring men closer to God. Mary also appears in his passages which deal with the Passion of Christ, where she follows her son during his torment with several long lamentations (XV, 77-154; 433-492; 540-552; 727-752; 801-824). These episodes reflect the powerful influence of the medieval tradition of Mary’s lamentations, songs that sometimes accompanied the staging of the Passion and that also form a special and a popular genre of medieval poetry. Buniü’s work encapsulated the deep Catholic devotion to Mary, but in parallel incorporated Catholic liturgical and literary traditions and customs

20 21

Cf. the medieval introit Salve, sancta parens. I wish to thank Ana Oreški for alerting me to this fact.

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that fall outside the biblical canon, a phenomenon often considered superfluous and superstitious by the reformers.22 III. Grace23 The role of the Grace of God in human salvation was a further point of contention between the Catholic and the Protestant churches. Clementia is one of the key characters in the VGXr, and Buniü’s work credits her with an important role in God’s plans for saving mankind. During the council in heaven in book one, Grace, personified as a daughter of God, praises the decision to send a saviour into the world, since people were “walking in darkness” (I, 168-173; cf. Is 9:2). She also quarrels with her sister Justice, referred to as Iustitia or Astraea, who argues it would be unjust that the blameless son of God should die for a sinful mortal man. Grace wins the dispute when God ends their quarrel with a nod of his head and makes a final decision which ratifies the salvation of men. Grace appears again a couple of times throughout the epic, but she is never again as personified as in the first book. Occasionally, she also becomes equated with Christ himself, of which an interesting example is found in a passage of book four that features John the Baptist: Talem praetendit gratia legem, Gratia, quae Christus, Ioannes praeuia lex est. Hinc datur una fides, nostrae uia sola salutis. (VGXr, IV, 446-448) That is the Law that Grace spreads out before itself. The Grace is Christ and John is the Law preceding Him. From these two one faith is derived, the faith which is our only way to salvation.

It is interesting to note that in this example John represents God’s law and Jesus stands for God’s grace, both of which are, according to Christian teaching, necessary for faith and constitute the only path to salvation. Since John is considered the last prophet connecting the Old and New Testaments, Buniü’s concept of the law represented by John can be equated with Scripture. In this way, Buniü’s epic reminds us of the three 22

Cf. Rezar, “De morte Christi,” 66-69; Körbler, Jakov Buniü, 110; on the devotion to the Mother of God in Renaissance, see Burckhardt: 192-193; on superstition and the reformers, cf. Helen Parish and William G. Naphy, eds., Religion and Superstition in Reformation Europe (Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 2002). 23 This is a complex issue requiring a more detailed analysis; what follows is just a basic outline of the problem.

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principles of Luther’s teaching on salvation—sola fide, sola gratia, sola scriptura. Buniü obviously realized the importance of the role of grace, but due to the complicated character of this theological question, he was probably unable to express the very essence of the problem, either on account of the restrictions of the poetic genre or because of his own limited understanding. In his VGXr, Buniü addressed the issue of involvement of grace in human life, both on earth and after death, on yet another occasion. When recounting the circumstances accompanying Jesus’s response to the question “Who can be saved?” (Mt 19:25), he explains that grace is given to men as a guide to lead them to Paradise because they are unable to attain it without God’s mercy. Sic dea syderei Claementia temperat oris. Vnus ad aetherium patet uni ascensus Olympum, Peruius haud ulli, nisi quos data gratia tollit. Per se qui nequeunt, illuc duce numine tendant. (VGXr, XII, 304-7) This is how the starry-faced goddess Grace mitigates [hardships]. It is to her that the one way up to Olympus is freely accessible. This way is hardly passable for anyone who is not lifted up by her. Those who cannot reach Olympus themselves, let them be guided by the goddess Grace.

IV. Purgatory The issue of purgatory was a problem that caused disagreement between Catholics on one hand and the Orthodox and Reformed Churches on the other, since neither the Orthodox nor the Reformed explicitly acknowledged its existence. The root of the issue lay in the Gospels themselves, which nowhere explicitly define the existence of such a place (cf. Mk 9:49 and 1Cor 3:11-15).24 Accordingly, Buniü skates over the issue, except for one instance, a passage in his work that deals with that kind of sin which is defined as unforgivable: Ast immite nefas, atque irreparabilis error, Qui necat immani malesanam uulnere mentem, ......................................................................... Quo cor durescit, uitae nec poenitet actae, Tollitur id nulla uenia, neque tempore crimen. (VGXr, X, 96-101)

24

I wish to thank Andrea Riedl for alerting me to this reference.

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But the heartless crime against divine law and the irreparable error which kills the corrupted soul by inflicting a brutal wound on it . . . which hardens the heart and makes sinners incapable of showing repentance for their way of life, that heartless crime is not taken away by any indulgence or lapse of time.

The phrase in the last verse states that sin against the Holy Spirit is the only one that cannot be forgiven “by any indulgence or lapse of time.” This seems to suggest that there are sins that can be justified during a course of time, a comment which, in turn, seems to allude to the idea of existence of purgatory. IV.a Filioque Since we have turned our attention to purgatory, an issue of contention between the Orthodox and Catholic Churches, something should also be said concerning the most famous point of dispute between these two churches—namely, whether the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father alone, or from both the Father and the Son. This was not a live issue in the Counter-Reformation, but might feasibly reflect the interests of the age (that is, the fifteenth and the early sixteenth centuries), in which attempts were made to bring about reconciliation with the Orthodox Church. Buniü was very clear on the subject, speaking of “a Divine Person proceeding from two Divine Persons,” that is, the Holy Spirit coming from both the Father and the Son: O qui de gemino procedis numine numen, Mens de mente, Deo Deus exis, amorque duobus Vnus par, neutro maior, par unus utroque. (VGXr, X, 7-11) O, Divine Person, proceeding from two Divine Persons, Mind from Mind, God from God, One Love equal to Both, not greater than Either, one and equal to Both.

O, Patris et nati pietas ab utroque uicissim Vna pari substans spiramine, parque potestas. (VGXr, Dedication of the book XVI to the Holy Spirit) O, One Love between the Father and the Son, receiving your existence through their mutual and equal breathing forth. O, Power equal to Both.

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V. Sola Scriptura The reformers’ doctrine of “Scripture alone,” which meant so much to the Protestant cause, did not find any explicit echo in Buniü’s work. Nevertheless, it must be remembered that his epic comprised an attempt to translate the Bible into poetic form, something that was very popular among the educated audience of his day. Buniü’s project may indeed be viewed as being in a way analogous to the reformers’ efforts to translate the Bible into vernaculars, since both were meant to bring the word of God closer to the targeted public.25 However, Buniü also harnessed the language of Catholic liturgy and ecclesiastical hymns, a feature which conveys the importance of tradition that the Reformation rejected. The use of the language and imagery of the pagan classical epic in religious poetry could, in itself, be regarded as expressing the attitude that there were also other means, beside the “Bible alone”, that could bring men closer to God.26 This blend of classical and modern, pagan and Christian, serves well to highlight the message Buniü repeats throughout his epic—namely, that the Gospel combines the seemingly uncombinable, as is the very idea of God becoming a mortal man, or the idea of the innocent one dying for sinners. VI. Miscellanea There are a couple more issues that reflect the main arguments of the age, but are not dealt with extensively, sometimes not even expressed in clear terms, in the VGXr, some of which are briefly listed here. VI.a Devotion to Rome (and to the Pope) Buniü had good relations with the leaders of the Catholic Church. The reference that seems most effectively to convey Buniü’s allegiance to the bishop of Rome can be found in his description of people coming to Jerusalem on the feast of the Pentecost, where he also mentions a Roman among them: Venerat et . . . quem Roma tulit caput orbis et urbibus una27

25

Cf. Körbler, Jakov Buniü, 120, 130; Hale, Civilization, 156-158. The agents of the Counter-Reformation, too, were intimately familiar with the literary expression of classical antiquity, using it as a means of proceeding, especially in scholarship and pulpit eloquence (cf. Hale, Civilization, 192, 198, 200). 27 “And there also came . . . a person originating from Rome, the head of both the world and its cities.” 26

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(VGXr, XVI, 566-569).28 Echoing the traditional urbi et orbi, this verse acknowledges Rome as the head of the world and the world’s cities. VI.b Jews It is interesting to note that despite the anti-Semitic climate of the age, Buniü shows great respect for the Hebrew people, acknowledging it as the nation of Our Lord. Even though there are harsh words and insults, these are nevertheless always directed specifically at the priests and Pharisees, who are equated with various deities of the underworld, but never at the Jewish people as a whole. VI.c Devotio Moderna At a couple of points, Buniü incorporates his personal reflections into the poem, such as dissuading the rich from hoarding up earthly treasures (V, 435-454), or asking Jesus what he, the poet, can do to compensate for the terrible blows Jesus suffers because of his (the poet’s) sins (XV, 302-314). In these expressions of personal religious experience, Buniü may be said to follow the aspirations of the Devotio Moderna towards individual religious feeling. It could be suggested that the notable role of Christian virtues (after which the books of the second part of the epic are named and which could be demonstrated as thoughtfully elaborated in each of these books respectively) also reflects the influence of this movement that accentuated the importance of leading a Christian life.

Conclusion The aim of this essay has been to show that the epic De vita et gestis Christi of the Ragusan poet Jakov Buniü expresses the spirit of its age in a number of ways and conveys a range of messages on various levels. Buniü chose the epic form as a vehicle through which to narrate a historically true story of a supernatural hero, and he chose Latin, a language that united the educated Europe in a literary “republic of letters,” in addition to being the language of the Catholic Church and its education. This was of course in opposition to the reformers’ concept of promoting vernaculars. As a true humanist, he used the pagan imagery not only to con28

The episode of the descension of the Holy Spirit appears in the Acts, not in the Gospels; its inclusion in Buniü’s epic was perhaps intended as a means to hint at the Confirmation which the reformers did not consider a sacrament.

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nect with his educated public, who knew the classics well, but also to show the importance of tradition and to emphasize the idea that God is capable of unifying even the most incompatible. The epic closely follows the Gospels, but it also includes other biblical texts and church tradition, using the vocabulary and imagery, among others, of Catholic liturgy. This again was a different approach from the one taken by the reformers, who rejected this tradition. The main motifs of the epic, those that are most vividly or minutely described, reflect the main themes of polemics at the turn of the century, not only in relation to the Reformation but also to the situation within the Catholic Church and among the Catholic population in general. This epic on the life and deeds of Christ, comprising also instances of praise concerning the most important elements of Catholic devotion, was written to enhance the religious feeling of the individual and to promote the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church, and this with the express permission of the pope. Not less important is that through his epic Buniü also tried to convey biblical exegesis to his readers, which he did by linking the episodes of the Gospels with their Old Testament foreshadowings. In the end, we may conclude that the beginnings of the CounterReformation can be traced back to an earlier date than usually presumed. Like the Reformation, which had been slowly developing for over a century only to erupt with Luther, the Counter-Reformation too, if interpreted as a devotion to the Catholic tradition and its truths, can be said to have permeated the spirit and the activities of individuals long before the Council of Trent.

CHAPTER NINE JOHN MILTON AND THE OLD ENGLISH POEM ON THE FALL OF MEN: INSPIRATION, BORROWING, OR POLEMIC? ZOYA METLITSKAYA

As the title of this essay indicates, my focus will be on two great poetical works. One of them, Milton’s Paradise Lost, needs no special introduction. First published in 1667, and republished with minor revisions in 1674 (the year of Milton’s death), it describes the temptation and fall of Adam and Eve, and their expulsion from Eden, transforming the story into a grandiose heroic epic abounding with classical and mythological allusions. The other text in question is the poem known as Genesis B. Written in Old English, it has been preserved in the so-called Junius manuscript (Bodleian Library MS Junius 11) dating from the second half of the tenth and the early eleventh century. Genesis B constitutes a part of a larger poem, correspondingly called Genesis A, into which it was interpolated at some stage of the creation of the final text. It is unknown when the compilation was done, but the six hundred lines of Genesis B differ dramatically from the text of Genesis A, which contains an accurate and a bit tedious paraphrase of the Book of Genesis from the creation to the story of the sacrifice of Isaac. Although Genesis B fits well into the narrative of Genesis A, it is obviously of a different origin and presents a rather peculiar version of the story of the fall from heaven of Lucifer and his companions, followed by the temptation of Adam and Eve, and their fall. This fragment is supposed to be a translation of an earlier work written in the Old Saxon language. Old Saxon, closely related to Old English, was spoken by the inhabitants of Saxony, where Anglo-Saxon missionaries preached the Gospel in the seventh and eighth centuries. Twenty five lines of the Old Saxon poem have been preserved in a manuscript kept in the Vatican Library and referred to as Palatinus Latinus 1447.

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The idea that, writing his Paradise Lost, John Milton was inspired by the Old English Genesis B has been discussed by scholars for nearly three hundred years. The focal point of the controversy lies in the question of whether Milton was acquainted with the Old English text and, if he was, how he could have obtained access to it.1 As no definite results have so far emerged from these discussions, it seems to me more promising to address the question from a different perspective. In the following, I will focus my attention on the sets of theological ideas which formed the background of the story of the fall of man as it is narrated in Genesis B and in Paradise Lost respectively. My aim is to demonstrate that, even if John Milton had been acquainted with the Old English poem, he could hardly have appreciated its theological message. If Milton really drew some inspiration from the unknown Anglo-Saxon poet, it is certain that his intention was not to borrow his ideas but to contest them. Let us begin with the Old English poem.2 The Genesis B, preceded by a lacuna, begins with an episode in which God admonishes Adam and Eve not to eat fruit from the Tree of Death. After they have thanked him “for the knowledge and the law,” God allows them to live on earth and returns to heaven. The poet then narrates the story of the rebellion of the mightiest of angels and depicts his punishment. The author draws a picture of hell and Satan who, lamenting over the fact that the first people are allowed to partake of the joys of the heavenly realm, looks for someone who could induce Adam and Eve to forsake God’s commandment. A volunteer, picturing to himself the future favours he has been promised by his master, departs for earth to meet Adam and Eve. The poet then describes the two trees planted by God’s own hand: the Tree of Life, “bringing forth the fruits fair and sweet” and giving those who eat from it a life of happiness and the grace of the heavenly king, and the Tree of Death with “fruits bitter and dark” which make those who taste them experience evil, affliction, and death. The herald of the enemy plucks a piece of fruit from the Tree of Death and goes to Adam. Deceitfully introducing himself as a messenger of God, Satan’s volunteer announces to Adam that God wants him to eat the fruit and that doing so would increase Adam’s strength and 1

For a detailed discussion of this problem, see Hong Shen, “Milton and Old English,” in Decoding Contemporary Britain: British Literary and Cultural Studies, ed. Mao Sihui (Beijing: Peking University Press, 2003), 115-123. 2 For a recent edition of the Old English poem with an introduction and notes, see Alger N. Doane, The Saxon Genesis: An Edition of the West Saxon “Genesis B” and the Old Saxon Vatican “Genesis” (Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1991).

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power. Adam is in doubt, but finally tells the visitor that he, observing a different commandment given to him by God, will not listen to the “messenger” unless he can produce a token that he comes from God. The fiend then speaks with Eve, telling her that God would be very angry with Adam for his contumacy, but she can be wiser and save the situation by persuading Adam to eat the fruit. He also tells her that, if she and her husband obey him, they will be able to experience the joys of heaven, seeing God on the throne surrounded by his angels. Eve eventually accepts the fruit and eats it, and upon doing so she experiences a wonderful vision conjured up before her eyes by the enemy. Bewildered by the vision, Eve meets Adam and vehemently pleads with him to forsake God’s initial commandment. In the end, Adam changes his mind and sinks his teeth into the offered fruit. Then the marvellous vision fades away, the herald returns victoriously to his master, and Adam and Eve are left weeping in anticipation of their gloomy fate. We can clearly see that the story of the Fall, as narrated in Genesis B, distinguishes itself from the biblical narrative in several important details: 1. The tempter, when addressing Adam and Eve as God’s messenger, takes on the form of an angel instead of that of a serpent.3 2. He tempts Adam first, and turns to Eve only after Adam has rejected his advances. 3. It is not the wish to be like God that lies at the core of Adam and Eve’s temptation, but rather their having to make a choice whether to obey God’s previous commandment or whether to follow the new instructions 3

The poet says that Satan’s messenger “wearp hine þa on wyrmes lic and wand him þa ymbutan / þone deaðes beam þurh deofles cræft / genam þær þæs ofætes and wende hine eft þanon / þær he wiste handgeweorc heofoncyninges” (Then turned himself into the likeness of a worm / and wrapped himself around the Tree of Death through the devil’s craft / took the fruit and returned to where he knew the creatures of the king of heaven were present). As far as I can guess, the “messenger” turns into “the likeness of a worm” to get the fruit, and then he reassumes his “angelic” disguise. It seems to me that the speeches of Adam and Eve in the poem indicate clearly enough that they see before them an angel and not a speaking beast. Adam, who does not believe the tempter, says that “þu gelic ne bist ænegum his engla þe ic ær geseah” (you do not resemble any of his angels whom I saw before), but he does not say, that his guest is not an angel at all. The same view was held by Rosemary Woolf (R. Woolf, “The Fall of Man in Genesis B and the Mystère d’Adam” in Art and Doctrine: Essays on Medieval Literature [London and Ronceverte: The Hambledon Press, 1986], 18). The arguments in favour of the opposite opinion may be found, for example, in Susan Oldrieve (Burchmore)’s work: Susan Burchmore, “Traditional Exegesis and the Question of Guilt in the Old English Genesis B,” Traditio 41 (1985): 117-124.

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of the “angel.” And this choice must be made in a situation when they are afraid of God’s wrath on the one hand and fascinated by the marvellous but false vision of the heavenly kingdom on the other. 4. Adam and Eve repent immediately after they become aware that they have been deceived. From this perspective, Genesis B seems to suggest that Adam and Eve’s transgression of God’s commandment was not at all their fault because they had been deceived, and consequently did not commit sin. One of the common interpretations of the poem is that the author exculpates Adam and Eve, and by doing so directly contradicts Christian doctrine. Scholars who adopted a more moderate approach looked for possible sources of such an interpretation of the Fall and tried to grasp the theological concept the poet intended to communicate to his audience. There is no space here to discuss all details; I will therefore try to make a synthesis of various interpretations in order to achieve a more comprehensive understanding of the poem in its socio-political context. We do not know who the author of the Old Saxon poem was, but it seems unlikely that he could have been a theologian with a scope of knowledge comparable to that of Bede the Venerable. In my opinion, it is very improbable that he was familiarly acquainted with the Old Testament Apocrypha4 or St Augustine’s and Gregory the Great’s theological speculations on pre-lapsarian and post-lapsarian ability of the soul to see God.5 I think it most probable that the aim of his work was didactic, not theological, and he operated not with perfectly formulated concepts, but with some commonplace ideas and images, which were familiar and understandable to him and his readers/ listeners. There are two elements in the Genesis B story of the Fall which are worth considering from this perspective. As has been shown, at the centre of the story lies the question of obedience, and—more generally—of loyalty. It was the disloyalty of the mightiest of angels, who preferred his own ambitions to faithful allegiance to his Lord, that caused his fall. Meanwhile, his followers proved their loyalty by standing by their master, but their obedience was, if one may say so, wrong because it was given to a wrong person.

4 John M. Evans, “Genesis B and its Background,” The Review of English Studies, New Series, 14 (1963): 113-123. 5 Andrew Cole, “Jewish Apocrypha and Christian Epistemologies of the Fall: the Dialogues of Gregory the Great and the Old Saxon Genesis,” in Rome and the North: the Early Reception of Gregory the Great in Germanic Europe, ed. Rolf H. Bremmer Jr., Kees Dekker, and David F. Johnson (Paris–Leuven–Sterling, VA: Peeters, 2001), 157-189.

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The situation with Adam and Eve is to a great extent the same. They had to choose whether to show obedience to God, complying with his previous explicit command (and taking the risk of angering Him by their demand for a clearer confirmation of the new one), or whether to follow the instructions of an unknown person who pretended to be God’s herald. At first, Adam made the right decision, but Eve, who was a weaker and more tender person, failed to do so. The fear of God’s wrath and the ambition to become a protector for her beloved husband were the reasons of her fall. It is worth highlighting at this point that the traditional biblical narrative, too, is pervaded with the problem of obedience. The Saxon (or Anglo-Saxon) poet treats it in a different way that is rather unusual for us but was very familiar to his ninth-century audience. The social and political reality of the period abounded with the situations in which a person had to make the difficult decisions of whether to follow the commands of a king (or a high king), or the commands of local lords whose connections with the authority were doubtful. In real life a wrong decision could be fatal. A faulty judgment which led to disloyalty to the high authority resulted in severe punishment irrespective of its reason and the good faith of the person in question. A more educated monastic audience might also have taken into account the means by which the deceit was accomplished. Eve’s (and Adam’s) fake vision could easily be interpreted as a kind of spiritual deception, an illusion of acquisition of higher knowledge or a prophetic vision, which endangered the souls of the more devoted believers. As J. F. Vickrey6 noticed, Eve’s (fake) vision of God sitting on the throne surrounded by his angels probably reminded the poet’s readers/listeners of another vision—namely, the Vision of the Judgment. J. F. Vickrey demonstrated that the very same picture of God enthroned and surrounded by angels appeared in connection with the Judgment (the Last Judgment or the individual judgment of the soul) in many pieces of Anglo-Saxon Christian poetry, such as Phoenix, Elene, Juliana, Exodus, Christ III, Andreas, Dream of the Rood, as well as in the Old Saxon Heliand. Taking that important remark into account, one can read more clearly the warning addressed to those who aspired to spiritual perfection and abilities above their power: the vision of heavenly joy is in fact an illusion, and the only reality is the judgment to come. To sum up, I believe that the author of the poem was much more interested in the questions of “how the Fall occurred” and “what we must be6 John F. Vickrey, “The vision of Eve in the Genesis B,” Speculum 44 (1969): 86102.

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ware of to avoid taking a wrong decision” than in the fate of the fallen mankind. He obviously shared the (semi-Pelagian, as some Protestant church historians maintain) mainstream teaching of the early medieval church, which espoused the idea that baptism, good works, penance, and grace (received through the church ministering) are enough for salvation, and good persons will be fine. If we now turn our attention to Milton’s story of the Fall, it can be briefly summarized as follows: Lucifer and his fellows, cast down into hell, gather together and hold a council in which they discuss how to continue their fight, desiring to avenge their defeat. They decide that their first move will be to subjugate God’s last creation, man. Satan, in the disguise of a cherub, flies out of hell and talks to Archangel Uriel who shows him the way to man. Satan, looking down on earth and watching the first couple engaged in a conversation about God’s commandment not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge under penalty of death, devises his wicked plan. Uriel becomes suspicious of the cherub whom he has talked to before, and late that night angels catch Satan as he is whispering into Eve’s ear. They bring Satan before Gabriel who, with God’s help, banishes him from earth. In the morning, Eve relates to Adam that in her dream she saw a creature resembling an angel who proposed that she take one piece of fruit from the forbidden Tree of Knowledge and taste it, saying that she would become like God when she does so. After this, Archangel Raphael comes onto the scene and, informing Adam about the danger lurking nearby, explains, among other things, that the reason for Satan’s revolt was the announcement of the Father that he had begotten a Son, who was to rule at his right hand. He then narrates to Adam the story of the war in heaven and the story of creation. Raphael also speaks to Adam about love, recommending that he refrain from carnal passion and pursue pure love. Satan returns to the Garden of Eden after Raphael’s departure. He finds Eve alone and begins flattering her beauty, grace, and godliness. Eve is amazed to see a creature of the Garden speak. He tells her that he gained the gifts of speech and intellect by eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. She replies that God has forbidden them to eat from this tree, but Satan continues to lie, saying that God actually wants them to eat from the tree and forbids doing so only because he wants them to show their independence. Ultimately, Eve reaches for an apple, plucks it from the tree, and takes a bite. Eve then finds Adam and tells him that she has eaten the fruit and that her eyes have been opened. Adam is horrified. Eve does not want Adam to

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remain in Paradise and have another woman, and Adam realizes that he must follow her. He eats the fruit and they run off into the woods for sexual play. Then, angry and confused, they begin to blame each other, but neither one admits that it was his/her fault. As can be seen, there are some common features in Paradise Lost and Genesis B. 1. Both narratives begin with the story of Satan’s rebellion, and the temptation of the human couple is presented as a kind of revenge for Satan’s defeat. 2. In Paradise Lost, the Serpent says that by eating the fruit Adam and Eve would acquire the power to see “all things visible in Heaven” (IX, 604). This resembles the fake vision of God in the Anglo-Saxon poem. Milton’s depiction of the Serpent’s effort to persuade Eve that God would be rather pleased by humans’ trespass of his previous command echoes the “angel’s” speech addressed to Adam in Genesis B. 3. In both narratives there is a vision which in itself contains an element of spiritual deception, though Milton’s version is very different from that of Genesis B. Milton says that Adam and Eve “fancy that they feel / Divinity within them breeding wings” (IX.1009-1010). After eating the fruit, Eve refers to God as a tyrant whose safety is only secured by a host of “angelic spies” (IX, 816), and Adam sees Him as a “fickle monarch” (IX, 949). Neither of these features is present in the biblical narrative. Though there is no obvious internal evidence that composing Paradise Lost Milton really had the Old English poem in mind, one may wonder whether he did in fact read the Old English text or its translation and was so fascinated by the vivid images created by the Anglo-Saxon poet that he felt compelled to recreate some of them in his own work; or whether he possibly drew inspiration from other sources. But regardless of the answer to this question, we cannot ignore the fact that there are also striking differences between the two stories. In the Old English poem, Adam and Eve have actually no opportunity to discern the deceit; the only way to escape the danger consists in their firm and irrational loyalty to their Lord’s explicit command: it is not a serpent, but an angel, who speaks to them, not instigating them to violate the Lord’s first command, but in contrast exhorting them to comply with God’s will. Furthermore, the tempter does not at all question God’s good intentions with the first human couple. They are, if I may say so, much less aware of the danger than the characters of the biblical narrative were. On the contrary, in Paradise Lost Adam and Eve are entirely aware of the threat and, what is more, they have been explicitly warned of it. In Milton’s story, Eve’s

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actions do not differ much from those of Satan: both refuse their loyalty to God for “ventring higher than [their] lot” (IX, 690). In Eve’s dream, Satan tempts her and encourages her to leave the bower to be beheld by the moon and the stars, which are bewildered by her beauty. He praises the forbidden fruit, which is “able to make Gods of Men” (V, 70), and persuades Eve that she herself is a goddess and can, by her merit, ascend to heaven. It is stated in the argument of Milton’s book nine that Satan tempts Eve by “extolling [her] above all other Creatures.” Adam’s behaviour, in turn, makes us think of that of Satan’s followers, who chose to stay with their master and not with their Lord. He preferred loyalty to Eve to obedience to God. But even this loyalty becomes null and vain after the Fall. Adam and Eve stop loving not only God but each other too: “Love was not in their looks, either to God / Or to each other” (X, 111-112). In Milton’s poem, the fall of men (and much more the fall of angels in a perfectly created world) is even more illogical and unexplainable than it is in the Bible itself. One cannot escape the feeling that the fall of angels and men in Milton’s story was inevitable. But why is it so? The painful question of divine predestination and its connection with (or disconnection from) divine foreknowledge lies at the core of various versions of Protestant theology, and we do not know how Milton himself answered it. We only know that he calls to the High Spirit in the first lines of Paradise Lost: “What in me is dark / Illuminate, what is low raise and support; / That to the height of this great Argument / I may assert Eternal Providence / And justify the ways of God to men” (I, 23-26). In contrast with the author of Genesis B, Milton did not intend to educate his audience in Christian morals, good behaviour, or loyalty to high authorities. It seems to me that his attitudes were more personal; he was looking for hope in the long history of human crimes and sufferings, from the eating of the forbidden fruit to the awesome experience of his countrymen in the years of the Revolution and the Restoration. And in accordance with his Puritan background, the only hope he could find was Christ. Russell Hillier in his recent work7 wrote with a kind of polemical overstatement that the true hero in Paradise Lost is the Son. I do not completely agree with his interpretation, for in my opinion the message and characters of Milton’s poem are more ambiguous and less “orthodox” than R. Hillier wants them to be. But it is true that the Son, who is not even mentioned in Genesis B, is indeed one of the key figures in Milton’s poem. It is the Son who leads the angelic host in the first war with Satan and 7

Russell M. Hillier, Milton’s Messiah: the Son of God in the Works of John Milton (Oxford University Press, 2011).

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plays a decisive role in his defeat. It is He who creates the universe. It is He who rules it. And it is He who saves not only mankind, but, if one may dare say so, also the “reputation” of the Father. In book two, when the Father sees Satan flying up towards the earth, he knows that man will fall because he gave him free will. God says it would be just for man to be punished, nevertheless He wants to be merciful. In order to resolve this dilemma, a suitable sacrifice must be brought. The Son, the actual creator and king of the world, immediately offers to die in order to pay for man’s guilt, and in this way meets the demands of both justice and mercy. At the heavenly council after the Fall, the Son explicitly states that the Father must show mercy to humankind and justify Himself in the eyes of humanity through His Son’s redeeming work, or else “[God’s] goodness and [his] greatness both / [will] be questioned and blasphemed without defense” (III, 165-166). To conclude, I observe that the comparison of the theological messages contained in the narratives about the fall of men as presented in Genesis B and Paradise Lost respectively, has not revealed any convincing parallels between the two texts; even though an influence of the former on the latter is not impossible. If any such influence existed, Milton aimed to polemicize with the Old English poem rather than to follow it. What my research highlights is the relation between the author’s personal beliefs, his work, and the theological ideas of his time. The two poets, one of whom lived eight hundred years earlier than the other, worked in the same way, albeit basing themselves on different theological grounds. Both aimed to present their personal imaginative truths rather than theological doctrines in their works, irrespective of whether their stories were newly invented or inspired by earlier sources.

PART IV: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY AND EASTERN CHRISTIANITY

CHAPTER TEN POLEMIK IM KONTEXT LITERARISCHTHEOLOGISCHER AUSEINANDERSETZUNGEN ZWISCHEN OST- UND WESTKIRCHE IM 13. JAHRHUNDERT ANDREA RIEDL

1. Einleitung Aus heutiger Perspektive über den ökumenischen Dialog zu reflektieren bedeutet, sich mit einem ganzen Set an Dialogformen, -methoden, -ebenen und vor allem Dialoginhalten auseinanderzusetzen, die jeweils die Zielrichtung und das intendierte Ergebnis anzeigen. Schon die Fragestellung, unter welchen Umständen Dialog gelingen kann bzw. seinen Sinn verfehlt, deutet auf den ‚Mittlerstatus‘ von Dialogprozessen: Ökumenischer Dialog ist—ernst genommen—kein Selbstzweck, sondern hat im Idealfall ein erklärtes und allen Dialogpartnern gemeinsames Ziel vor Augen. Um sich diesem Ziel anzunähern, gelten heute gewisse Spielregeln, deren Einhaltung bzw. Nichtbeachtung den Verlauf und, so vorhanden, die Ergebnisse des Dialogs wesentlich mitbestimmt.1 Sich mit den hermeneutischen Prämissen des Dialogpartners auseinanderzusetzen bzw. mit der Hermeneutik seiner Tradition vertraut zu machen, zählt zu den wichtigsten und erfolgversprechenden Faktoren ökumenischen Dialogführens. Die Frage nach der eigenen bzw. fremden Hermeneutik ist eng an das Thema der Identität geknüpft. Dass sich die eigene Identität in der Auseinandersetzung mit dem Gegenüber formt und konturiert, ist das Ergebnis jedes ‚in-Beziehung-Tretens‘ und, mehr noch, jeder Auseinandersetzung mit dem 1

Zu den „Spielregeln des Dialogs“ vgl. v. a. Leonard Swidler, Die Zukunft der Theologie. Im Dialog der Religionen und Weltanschauungen (Regensburg: Pustet; München: Kaiser, 1992).

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Gegenüber, die auf Dauer und Kontinuität angelegt ist. Das Thema ‚Identität im Dialog‘ ist überhaupt jenes Feld, auf das die meisten Ängste und Befürchtungen projiziert werden:2 Befürchtungen des Verlustes oder der Verleugnung von Identität bzw. die vermeintliche Gleichsetzung von Identität und vertretener Position können nicht nur im gegenwärtigen Kontext des ökumenischen Dialogs als Triebfeder manchen Handelns oder Schachzugs entlarvt werden, der ohne diesen Hintergrund kaum einzuordnen und nicht nachvollziehbar wäre. Aspekte der Fragen nach dem Ziel, den Spielregeln und den hermeneutischen Prämissen der am Dialog Beteiligten sowie letztlich nach der Identität des Einzelnen bzw. seiner Kirche als Klammer des kommunikativen Geschehens sollen im vorliegenden Beitrag historisch verortet werden. Im Fokus steht das Werk eines anonymen Dominikaners, das seinen Entstehungsgrund in der theologischen Kontroverse zwischen der lateinischen und der griechischen Kirche in einer Zeit hat, die gerade für die ost-westlichen Beziehungen hochbrisant und folgeträchtig war: die Zeit des Lateinischen Kaiserreichs in Konstantinopel und in großen Teilen des vormals byzantinischen Reiches (1204–1261). Der so betitelte Tractatus contra Graecos, der im Jahr 1252 in Konstantinopel entstanden war, gilt als Quelle und Vorlage einer Reihe von polemischen Werken, die mit Blick auf die Eigenart von Theologie und (liturgischem) Leben der Griechen als Handreichung und Argumentationshilfe für den eigenen Kreis verfasst wurde, um so eine entsprechende Vorbereitung für Situationen lateinisch-griechischer Konfrontation zu bieten. Die Eingliederung des Tractatus contra Graecos und seiner Nachfolgewerke unter das Stichwort Polemik, wie sie in der betreffenden Sekundärliteratur durchgehend stattfindet, verlangt nach einer genaueren Präzisierung dessen, was im jeweiligen Kontext unter Polemik zu verstehen ist. Dem übergeordneten Thema dieses Sammelbandes entsprechend wird daher—nach einer zeitlichen und lokalen Kontextualisierung des Tractatus contra Graecos—in einem ersten Schritt der Zusammenhang von Identität und hermeneutischen Voraussetzungen intendierter Kommunikation genauer in den Blick genommen: Die vom Autor des Traktats gewählte und 2

Vgl. u. a. Bernhard Nitsche, “Konfessionelle Identität und christliche Wahrheit,” in Ökumene–überdacht. Reflexionen und Realitäten im Umbruch, ed. Thomas Bremer und Maria Wernsmann (Freiburg/Br. u. a.: Herder, 2014), 144-169; vgl. Maria Wernsmann, “Identität und Macht in der Ökumene. Die römischkatholisch/orthodoxen Beziehungen in systemtheoretischer Perspektive,” in Ebd., 180-206; vgl. den Sammelband Ralf Dziewas und Michael Kisskalt, eds., Identität und Wandel. Konfessionelle Veränderungsprozesse im ökumenischen Vergleich (Leipzig: Evang. Verl.-Anst., 2013).

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im Kontext ost-westlicher Dispute neuartige Methode soll daraufhin untersucht werden, inwiefern sie sich mit der Hermeneutik des Gegenübers befasst und welche Implikationen dies auf das eigene Identitätskonzept hat, das gerade im polemischen Kontext eine tragende Rolle spielt. Der Blick auf die Methode leitet in einem zweiten Schritt über zu einer Kriteriologie bzw. Charakterisierung des Traktats als ost-westliche Polemik: Welche sind die Kriterien einer als Polemik geltenden Schrift im kontroverstheologischen Kontext des 13. Jahrhunderts und welche Auswirkungen hat das ‚polemische Gewand‘ auf die transportierten theologischen Inhalte?

2. Kontextualisierung des Tractatus contra Graecos Um eine Annäherung an den ‚Sitz im Leben‘ des Tractatus contra Graecos, jenes Schlüsselwerkes kontroverstheologischer Literatur zur Zeit des Lateinischen Kaiserreichs in Konstantinopel,3 zu ermöglichen, soll zunächst die Präsenz des Dominikanerordens im byzantinischen Osten im betreffenden Zeitraum als Entstehungshintergrund des Traktats thematisiert werden. In einem zweiten Schritt folgen die überblicksartige Nennung der behandelten Themen und Kontroverspunkte und ihre Einordnung in die bereits etablierte Tradition kontroverstheologischer Inhalte zwischen Ost- und Westkirche.

2.1. Die Präsenz des Dominikanerordens im Lateinischen Kaiserreich Zwei Stationen der Geschichte des noch jungen Dominikanerordens zu Beginn des 13. Jahrhunderts sind wegweisend für die Organisation seiner internen Strukturen und sukzessiven geographischen Ausbreitung: Erstens das Generalkapitel des Jahres 1221, dem der Ordensgründer Dominikus von Caleruega (gest. 1221) wenige Monate vor seinem Tod vorstand, und zweitens das Generalkapitel des Jahres 1228, das unter der Leitung Jordans von Sachsen, des ersten Nachfolgers des Ordensgründers Dominikus im Amt als magister generalis, gefeiert wurde und u. a. die geographische 3

Ein Drucktext aus dem Jahr 1616, der allerdings auf einer Handschrift von geringer Qualität basiert (wie bereits der Editor Petrus Stevartius in seinem Vorwort anmerkt), fand Eingang in Mignes PG (Patrologia Graeca) 140, 487-574. Die Autorin des vorliegenden Beitrags arbeitet an einer kritischen Edition des Tractatus contra Graecos. Die Textstellen, die in diesem Beitrag zitiert werden, stammen aus einem der wichtigsten Textzeugen der Handschriftenüberlieferung (Vat. lat. 4066, spätes 13. Jhdt.), die entsprechende Zitation aus Mignes PG wird jeweils in Klammer angeführt.

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Ausdehnung des Ordens bestätigte und in den Konstitutionen des Ordens verankerte.4 Basierend auf den Werken des dominikanischen Ordensgeschichtsschreibers Bernard Gui, darunter besonders auf seinem Catalogus Magistrorum (verfasst um 1304), ging die moderne Forschung zunächst davon aus, dass die ersten zwölf Provinzen des Dominikanerordens auf diesen beiden Generalkapiteln in zwei Etappen gegründet worden waren: So habe die Gründung der acht ursprünglichen Provinzen Hispania (Spanien), Provincia (Provence), Francia (Frankreich), Lombardia (Lombardei), Romana provincia (Rom bzw. Süditalien), Ungaria (Ungarn), Theutonia (Deutschland) und Anglia (England) auf dem Generalkapitel 1221 stattgefunden, während die auf dem Generalkapitel 12255 bzw. später von Humbert von Romans als quatuor minores provinciae bezeichneten Provinzen Polonia (Polen), Dacia (Dänemark bzw. gesamter skandinavischer Raum),6 Graecia (Griechenland) und Ierosolimitana provincia/ Terra Sancta (Heiliges Land)7 auf dem Generalkapitel 1228 gegründet und den ersten acht hinzugefügt worden seien. Was bereits B. Altaner in seiner grundlegenden Studie zur Dominikanermission im Osten des 13. Jahrhunderts andeutete,8 konnte S. Tugwell schließlich fundiert nachweisen:9 In beiden Fällen dürfen nicht die Generalkapitel als Handlungsträger betrach4

Das Generalkapitel des Jahres 1220 stellte neben die Augustiner-Regel als Grundlage der Ordensverfassung die sogenannten Constitutiones Ordinis Fratrum Praedicatorum. Diese sukzessiv erweiterten und ergänzten Konstitutionen „regelten des tägliche Leben des einzelnen Bruders innerhalb der Gemeinschaft, strukturierten den Austausch zwischen Konventen, Provinzen und der Ordensleitung und organisierten somit den Gesamtverband.“ (Johannes Schütz, Hüter der Wirklichkeit. Der Dominikanerorden in der mittelalterlichen Gesellschaft Skandinaviens [Göttingen: V&R unipress, 2014], 41). Vgl. dazu auch Michèle Mulchahey, “First the Bow is Bent in Study,” in Dominican Education before 1350 (Toronto: Pontifical Inst. of Mediaeval Studies, 1998), 36-47. 5 Vgl. Tommaso Violante, La provincia domenicana di Graecia (Rom: Istituto Storico Domenicano, 1999), 34. 6 Zur Provinz Dacia vgl. jüngst die detaillierte Studie von Schütz, Hüter der Wirklichkeit. 7 Zur alternierenden Bezeichnung Ierosolimitana provincia bzw. Terra Sancta vgl. Simon Tugwell, “The Evolution of Dominican Structures of Government: Terminology, Nomenclature and ordo of Dominican provinces,” in Archivum fratrum Praedicatorum 75 (2005): 29-79, hier: 34-39. 8 Vgl. Berthold Altaner, Die Dominikanermissionen des 13. Jahrhunderts. Forschungen zur Geschichte der kirchlichen Unionen und der Mohammedaner- und Heidenmission des Mittelalters (Habelschwerdt: Franke 1924), 10. 12. 9 Vgl. Simon Tugwell, “The Evolution of Dominican Structures of Government. II. The first Dominican Provinces,” in Archivum fratrum Praedicatorum 70 (2000): 14 et passim.

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tet werden, die eine Provinz im Sinne eines Formalaktes gründeten. Vielmehr kann man davon ausgehen, dass das Kapitel nur bestätigende und autorisierende Funktion insofern hatte, als es von den Dominikanern neu erschlossene Gebiete als Provinzen approbierte und deren Rechte und Pflichten festschrieb. Die im Sinne der Mission beabsichtigte Entsendung von Ordensmitgliedern in neue Gebiete und die Bemühungen, Konvente und ordensspezifische Strukturen10 vor Ort zu etablieren, gingen demnach der Anerkennung ihres Gebietes als Provinz voraus. Für die Provinz Graecia, zu der die Quellenlage verhältnismäßig dürftig und für die Zeit vor 1228 überhaupt nicht vorhanden ist,11 bedeutet dies, dass sich u. U. bereits vor 1228 Dominikaner angesiedelt hatten, wobei diesbezüglich nur Vermutungen bzw. mit den übrigen Provinzen vergleichende Annahmen möglich sind.12 Die erste namentliche Nennung eines Provinzials der Provinz Graecia findet sich in den Akten des Generalkapitels von 1240: Concedimus et confirmamus fratrem Stephanum in priorem provincialem provincie Grecie.13 Obwohl hierfür keine expliziten Quellen vorhanden sind, diente der Konvent in Konstantinopel vermutlich als Zentrum der dominikanischen Niederlassungen in der Provinz Graecia,14 der selbst allerdings nur bis 1261, d.h. bis zur Rückeroberung Konstantinopels durch die Griechen existierte. Biographische Notizen des Frater Simon von Konstantinopel lassen darauf schließen, dass die aus Konstantinopel vertriebenen Brüder daraufhin in den Konvent auf der Insel Negroponte flüchteten.15 Erst im 10 Tugwell beschreibt anhand einiger Beispiele die frühesten Provinzstrukturen folgendermaßen: „Dominican provinces came into being as the order moved into new territories, and, in so far as the question arose at all, the most primitive ‘provincial’ structure consisted in the link between a founding priory and its offshoots.” (Tugwell, “The first Dominican Provinces,” 19). 11 Tugwell, “The first Dominican Provinces,” 67; Tugwell, “Terminology, Nomenclature and ordo of Dominican provinces,” 77; Altaner, Die Dominikanermissionen des 13. Jahrhunderts, 10. 12 Neben den Beiträgen Tugwells vgl. dazu auch Violante, La provincia domenicana di Graecia, bes. 55-57. Zur Provinz Graecia vgl. grundlegend Altaner, Die Dominikanermissionen des 13. Jahrhunderts, 9-19; vgl. Violante, La provincia domenicana di Graecia; vgl. Raymond-Joseph Loenertz, “Les établissements dominicains de Péra-Constantinople. Origines et fondations,” in Échos d‘Orient 34, no. 179 (1935): 332-349. 13 MOPH (Monumenta Ordinis Fratrum Praedicatorum Historica) III 18, 11-12. 14 Vgl. Loenertz, “Les établissements dominicains de Péra-Constantinople,” 333335; vgl. Violante, La provincia domenicana di Graecia, 66. 15 Vgl. Marie-Hélène Congourdeau, “Frère Simon le Constantinopolitain, O.P. (1235?–1325),” in Revue des études byzantines 45 (1987): 165-174, hier: 166-167;

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Jahr 1299 nahm der Dominikaner Wilhelm Bernard von Gaillac16 die Tradition seines Ordens in der Provinz Graecia in veränderter Form wieder auf, indem er einen Konvent der dominikanischen Societas peregrinantium gründete. Diese ordensinterne Missionsgesellschaft ad gentes,17 deren Existenz erstmals zu Beginn des 14. Jahrhunderts bezeugt ist,18 stellte eine Organisation innerhalb des Dominikanerordens dar, die nicht der Jurisdiktion eines Provinzials unterlag und deren Mitglieder angehörige Ordensmänner mehrerer Provinzen waren.19 Einige Ordensbrüder, die in Negroponte Zuflucht gefunden hatten, kehrten im Jahr 1299 nach Konstantinopel zurück und schlossen sich der Societas peregrinantium an, die vermutlich bis 1307 eine Niederlassung in Konstantinopel und anschließend im Konstantinopler Vorort Pera unterhielt.20 Der Tractatus contra Graecos ist das einzige erhaltene Werk, das aus dem rund dreißigjährigen Bestehen des Konstantinopler Dominikanerkonvents in der Provinz Graecia hervorgegangen ist. Die herausragende Wirkungsgeschichte dieses Werkes veranlasste A. Dondaine, den anonymen Traktat als „chef de file“21 insofern zu bezeichnen, als sein Einfluss zum einen an den großen Stationen der Unionsbemühungen des 13. bis zum 15. Jahrhundert—vom II. Konzil von Lyon (1247) bis zum Konzil von Ferrara-

vgl. Antoine Dondaine, “Contra Graecos. Premiers écrits polémiques des Dominicains d’Orient,” in Archivum fratrum Praedicatorum 21 (1951): 372-375, hier: 414; vgl. Claudine Delacroix-Besnier, “Les Prêcheurs, du dialogue à la polémique (XIIIe–XIVe siècle),” in Greeks, Latins, and the Intellectual History, 1204–1500, ed. Martin Hinterberger und Christopher Schabel (Leuven u. a.: Peeters, 2011), 151-168, hier: 151-152; vgl. Friedrich Stegmüller, “Bonacursius contra Graecos. Ein Beitrag zur Kontroverstheologie des XIII. Jahrhunderts,” in Vitae et Veritati. Festgabe für Karl Adam (Düsseldorf: Patmos 1956), 57-82, hier: 57; vgl. Violante, La provincia domenicana di Graecia, 132. 16 Vgl. Marie-Hélène Congourdeau, “Note sur les Dominicains de Constantinople au début du 14e siècle,” in Revue des études byzantines 45 (1987): 175-181, bes. 177. 17 Vgl. Violante, La provincia domenicana di Graecia, 145. 18 Vgl. Altaner, Die Dominikanermissionen des 13. Jahrhunderts, 14; vgl. Violante, La provincia domenicana di Graecia, 145. 19 Für einen kurzen Forschungsüberblick vgl. Claudia F. Dobre, Mendicants in Moldavia: Mission in an Orthodox Land (Daun: Aurel, 2009), 40-41; vgl. Violante, La provincia domenicana di Graecia, 145-150. 20 C. Delacroix-Besnier lokalisiert den ersten Konvent der societas in Konstantinopel „sans doute dans le quartier de l’agora“ (Delacroix-Besnier, “Les Prêcheurs, du dialogue à la polémique,” 152); Loenertz dagegen geht von der Erstgründung bereits in Pera aus (Loenertz, “Les établissements dominicains de Péra-Constantinople,” 336). 21 Dondaine, “Contra Graecos,” 321.

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Florenz (1438–1445)22—nachgewiesen werden kann. Zum anderen diente er seiner Intention nach als Handreichung für an Unionsgesprächen Beteiligte und—literarkritisch nachweisbar—als Vorlage einer ganzen Reihe von weiteren Abhandlungen, die hauptsächlich ordensintern gegen die Irrtümer der Griechen verfasst worden waren. Gerade für die Frühzeit der Dominikaner im Osten lässt die Abfassung des Tractatus contra Graecos im Konstantinopler Konvent auf die Forschungstätigkeit und die regen Aktivitäten der Fratres als intendierte Adressaten im ost-westlichen Disput des 13. Jahrhunderts schließen.

2.2. Behandelte Themen und Kontroverspunkte im Tractatus contra Graecos Gegliedert in Prolog, Hauptteil und Appendix konzentriert der anonyme Autor des Traktats die ausschlaggebenden und für eine Union hinderlichen Konfliktpunkte zwischen der lateinischen und der griechischen Kirche auf vier hauptsächliche Themenbereiche: (1) der einseitige Zusatz des filioque in das gemeinsame Glaubensbekenntnis der Kirchen (de processione spiritus sancti); (2) die Vorstellung des Aufenthaltsortes der Seelen der Verstorbenen bis zum Tag des Jüngsten Gerichts (de animabus defunctorum); (3) der Gebrauch des ungesäuerten bzw. des gesäuerten Brotes in der Liturgie (de azymis et fermentato); (4) der Primat des römischen Papstes (de oboedientia ecclesiae romanae).23 Dass es sich bei diesem Text bemerkenswerterweise um den ersten Text handelt, der neben den drei geradezu klassisch gewordenen lateinisch-griechischen Konfliktpunkten filioque, Azymen und Primat auch das Thema des Purgatoriums bzw. des Schicksals der Verstorbenen bis zum Tag des Jüngsten Gerichts in seine Agenda aufnahm,24 und dass die Rezeption ebendieses viergliedrigen Schemas in 22

Die Behandlung der Kontoversthemen zwischen Lateinern und Griechen auf dem Konzil von Ferrara-Florenz (1438–1445) in der Bulle Letentur coeli (vgl. DH [Denzinger–Hünermann, Enchiridion Symbolorum, definitionum et declarationum de rebus fidei et morum] 1300-1308) spiegelt die Abfolge der vier Artikel im Duktus des Traktats von 1252, womit nur der Endpunkt jener Beobachtungen genannt ist, die die Rezeption des Traktats in der nachfolgenden Kontroversliteratur bis in das 15. Jahrhundert beleuchten. 23 filioque: Vat. lat. 4066 fol. 1v-15r (PG 140, 487-510); Purgatorium Vat. lat. 4066 fol. 15r-19r (PG 140, 510-517); Azymen Vat. lat. 4066 fol. 19r-23v (PG 140, 518526); Primat Vat. lat. 4066 fol. 23v-31r (PG 140, 526-539). 24 Vgl. Andrea Riedl, “Das Purgatorium im 13. Jahrhundert: Schlaglichter auf ein Novum der ost-westlichen Kontroverstheologie am Vorabend des II. Konzils von Lyon (1274),” in Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum 46, no. 1 (2014), in Druck.

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den entsprechenden Dokumenten der beiden Unionskonzilien von Lyon (1274)25 und Ferrara-Florenz (1438–1445)26 wiederzufinden ist, misst dem Traktat besondere Bedeutung zu. Ein ausführlicher Appendix, den der anonyme Autor an seine Ausführungen im Hauptteil anschließt, widmet sich nach der theologischen Analyse der Darstellung der kulturellen Entfremdung und der praktischen Stolpersteine zwischen den beiden Kirchen.

3. Identität und hermeneutische Prämissen: Die Methode des Tractatus contra Graecos Der Prolog des Traktats kündigt nicht nur die Inhalte an, die der Autor im Hauptteil seines Werkes zu behandeln beabsichtigt, sondern auch seine Arbeitsweise, die letztendlich maßgeblich für die Originalität und Verbreitung des Werkes war. Zwar sieht sich der Autor in einer Reihe mit seinen Vorgängern, die bereits viele Werke zur Verteidigung des wahren Glaubens in Auseinandersetzung mit den Griechen—plurima scripta ad defensionem verae fidei27—verfasst haben, er kündigt allerdings ein Novum an, von dem er sich gerade auf dem Hintergrund bereits Jahrhunderte andauernder Kontroversen erhebliche Erfolge verspricht: Die Art und Weise, wie mit den Griechen zu debattieren sei, müsse sich an deren hermeneutischer Zugangsweise orientieren. Lateinische Überzeugungsarbeit hinsichtlich der vera fides müsse daher zunächst den Weg des in der westlichen theologischen Ausbildungskultur üblichen Verfahrens mittels argumentis vel rationibus und testimoniis sacrae Scripturae vel sanctorum28—also das klassische scholastische Disputationsschema29—dahingehend erweitern, sich die Argumentationsweise des Gegenübers anzueignen, um eben diese Argumentationsweise in einem zweiten Schritt für die eigenen Zwecke nutzbar machen zu können. Die Wahl bzw. den zu erwartenden Erfolg dieses Verfahrens begründet der Autor folgendermaßen: Erstens stellt er den Umstand fest, dass in den ost-westlichen Auseinandersetzungen diejenigen Autoritäten, die der lateinischen und der griechischen Tradition gemeinsam sind—darunter besonders die Heilige Schrift und die Beschlüsse der gemeinsam rezipierten Konzilien—von bei25

Vgl. DH 851-861. Vgl. DH 1300-1308. 27 Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 1v (PG 140, 488). 28 Ebd. 29 Vgl. u. a. Thomas Prügl, “Patristische Fundamente der Ekklesiologie des Thomas von Aquin,” in Väter der Kirche. Ekklesiales Denken von den Anfängen bis in die Neuzeit, ed. Johannes Arnold u. a. (Paderborn Schöningh, 2004), 745-769, hier: 745-746. 26

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den Seiten jeweils für ihre eigenen Zwecke herangezogen und interpretiert werden. Dies habe gerade nicht zu einem für die Kommunikation produktiven Ergebnis geführt, sondern—wegen der gewichtigen Autorität beider Quellen—zur Verhärtung der Fronten. Ein weiteres Werk nach einem solchen Muster sei demnach nicht zielführend. Vielmehr gelte es (so die zweite Stufe im Begründungsgang seiner Methodenwahl), die griechischen Autoritäten auf die lateinischen Positionen hin zu befragen und so die Griechen ‚mit ihren eigenen Waffen‘ davon zu überzeugen, dass sie zu Unrecht starr an den eigenen Positionen festhalten—ex suis libris eorum convincatur pertinacia.30 Wenn den Griechen, so der Autor, vor Augen geführt werde, dass ihre eigenen Autoritäten der lateinischen Position nicht widersprechen, ja diese sogar befürworten und unterstützen, dann sei die logische Konsequenz abzusehen: Es gebe schließlich keinen Grund mehr, warum sich die griechische Kirche der Wahrheit—repräsentiert in den lateinischen Positionen—widersetzt und sich weiterhin der Bringschuld des Gehorsams gegenüber der römischen Kirche entziehe.31 Der bisher methodisch begründete Vorwurf einer einseitigen und damit nicht allgemein geltenden Interpretation sei somit ausgeräumt. In strikter Anwendung dieser Methodik zitiert der Autor die Kirchenväter der griechischen Tradition zur Untermauerung der lateinischen Positionen und tut kaum einen Schritt ohne griechisch-patristische Absicherung. Daraus ergibt sich an vielen Stellen des Argumentationsgangs eine doppelte Beweisführung: Zunächst wird eine lateinische Position mithilfe der betreffenden, im ost-west-Disput bereits standardisierten und etablierten Schriftstellen oder canones der gemeinsam rezipierten Konzilien begründet, um sie dann in einem zweiten Schritt durch griechische Autoritäten zu stützen und damit als nicht einseitig, sondern allgemeingültig zu verifizieren. Mit der Wahl dieser Methode, die abgesehen von den entsprechenden Fremdsprachenkenntnissen des Autors eine solide theologische Bildung und Kenntnis der griechischen Theologie voraussetzt,32 vernetzt der Autor die Wahrung und Verteidigung der eigenen kirchlichen Identität mit dem Bestreben, in geeigneter und zielführender Weise die Griechen von der Heilsnotwendigkeit aller Elemente zu überzeugen, die er als konstitutiv für 30

Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 1v (PG 140, 488). In der Einleitung zum ersten und bisher einzigen Drucktext des Traktats aus dem Jahr 1616 charakterisiert der Editor Petrus Stevartius das von ihm edierte Werk als Kontroverstext, in dem ekklesiologische Fragestellungen fokussiert auf die Rolle des Papstes das Hauptthema sind, dem alle anderen Themen untergeordnet bzw. zugeordnet werden; vgl. PG 140, 483-484. 32 Vgl. v. a. Dondaine, “Contra Graecos,” 336-350. 31

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diese Identität erachtet. Gerade das apologetische Moment in diesem Argumentationsgang, nämlich die Verteidigung des Eigenen mit den jeweils angepassten bzw. zweckdienlichen Mitteln, stellt eine der Hauptzuschreibungen an den übergeordneten Sammelbegriff ‚Polemik‘ dar. Ein Streifzug durch die Landschaft polemischer Charakteristika soll im Folgenden der Einordnung des Traktats und seiner Methode dienen.

4. Kriterien der Polemik: Der Tractatus contra Graecos als polemisches Werk H. Smolinsky stellt in seinem Artikel über „Kontroverstheologie“ im Lexikon für Theologie und Kirche kritisch fest, dass zu klären sei, ob und inwieweit die „Auseinandersetzungen mit der Ostkirche, die oft auf eine Kirchenunion zielten“,33 als Kontroverstheologie zu qualifizieren seien. Dies impliziert indirekt, dass das Streben nach der Kircheneinheit ein Ausschließungsgrund polemischer Intentionen sei. Oder, umgekehrt und allgemeiner formuliert: Polemische Methoden verfolgen eo ipso nicht das Ziel einer Einigung in der betreffenden diskutierten Sache. Gerade auf dem Hintergrund dieses interpretationsoffenen bzw. am Einzelfall zu klärenden Verständnisses von Polemik in der ost-westlichen Kontroverse lohnt der Blick auf eine Auswahl repräsentativer Einzelstudien, die sich mit ost-westlicher Kontroverstheologie des Mittelalters befassen und entweder in Randbemerkungen erwähnen oder—seltener—eine klare Definition dessen voranstellen, was sie im jeweiligen Kontext unter Polemik verstehen: H. G. Beck vertrat in der Mitte des 20. Jahrhunderts in seinem Standartwerk Kirche und theologische Literatur im byzantinischen Reich (Erstauflage 1959) eine vielzitierte Sichtweise, dass die Dogmengeschichte der byzantinischen Kirche „in erster Linie die Geschichte der byzantinischen Polemik“34 sei. Aus diesem Blickwinkel betrachtet entsteht die Dogmatik als Lehrgebäude der Kirche aus dem polemischen Diskurs bzw. kann—radikal formuliert—als dessen Produkt gesehen werden. Ohne an dieser Stelle auf die Implikationen jener Sichtweise für die byzantinische Dogmatik einzugehen ergibt sich als Indiz seines Verständnisses von theologischer Polemik, dass polemisches Agieren ein Profilierungs33

Heribert Smolinsky, “Kontroverstheologie,“ in LThK3 6 (1997), 333-335, hier: 335. Hans-Georg Beck, Kirche und theologische Literatur im byzantinischen Reich (München: Beck, 1959), 279. Als explizite Reaktion auf jene Sichtweise vgl. den Sammelband Antonio Rigo, Pavel Ermilov, eds., Byzantine Theologians. The Systematization of their own Doctrine and their Perception of Foreign Doctrines (Rom: Università degli Studi di Roma “Tor Vergata”, 2009). 34

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instrumentarium darstellt, mittels dessen man in Abgrenzung von und Schärfung an einem Gegenüber das artikulieren kann, was das ‚Eigene‘ ist, was als das ‚zu Vertretende‘ angesehen wird und entsprechend argumentiert bzw. verteidigt werden muss. Nach der Definition von Ch. Schabel ist ein Text dann als polemisch zu charakterisieren, wenn der Autor Thema und Agenda seines Werkes mit dem Ziel wählt, entweder dem Gegner inhaltlich und verbal überlegen zu sein, oder dem eigenen Kreis Argumente für die Debatte mit dem Gegner zu liefern.35 G. Avvakumov grenzt in seiner Studie Die Entstehung des Unionsgedankens polemische Literatur von Werken ab, die sich mit der kirchenrechtlichen Dimension (Dekretalien und Konzilsdokumente) und der Lehre bzw. Theologie der Kirche (systematisch-theologische Abhandlungen) befassen, da diese nicht in Abgrenzung, sondern in positiver Darstellung „den allgemeingültigen Fundus des theologischen Wissens und Könnens“36 vermitteln. Er unterteilt zudem die Schriften, die sich mit den Kontroversthemen zwischen Griechen und Lateinern beschäftigen, in zwei Kategorien: Zum einen Schriften, „deren Hauptzweck ein bewusst polemischer ist“,37 worunter Werke gegen den Anderen bzw. gegen dessen Irrtümer zu verstehen sind, außerdem Berichte über mündliche Disputationen, Briefe als Handreichung und Zitatensammlung sowie Abhandlungen, die als direkte Reaktion auf griechische Polemik entstanden sind. Zur zweiten Kategorie zählt Avvakumov Werke, deren Absicht „primär unpolemisch“38 ist und die die Frage nach der Beziehung untereinander „vor allem illustrativ, aber auch argumentativ“39 berühren. C. Delacroix-Besnier, die sich in ihren Studien hauptsächlich den im Osten ansässigen Mendikantenorden in der Auseinandersetzung mit der griechischen Kirche widmet, stellt die beiden Begriffe „Polemik“ und „Dialog“ einander gegenüber und definiert damit Polemik nicht als Methode, sondern als Medium der Kommunikation: Während der Dialog mündlich und in direktem Zusammentreffen stattfindet, handelt es sich bei Polemik um die einseitige Positionierung in der

35 Vgl. Christopher Schabel, “The Quarrel over Unleavened Bread in Western Theology, 1234–1439,” in Hinterberger, Schabel, Greeks, Latins, and the Intellectual History, 1204–1500, 85-128, hier: 89. 36 Georgij Avvakumov, Die Entstehung des Unionsgedankens. Die lateinische Theologie des Hochmittelalters in der Auseinandersetzung mit dem Ritus der Ostkirche (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2002), 18. 37 Avvakumov, Die Entstehung des Unionsgedankens, 117. Avvakumov zählt auch Humbert von Romans zu den Polemikern. 38 Ebd. 39 Ebd.

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Auseinandersetzung mit dem Gegenüber in verschriftlichter Form.40 Insofern spricht sie an vielen Stellen von der Ausbildung und Etablierung einer „tradition polémique“41 der Dominikaner bzw. generell der Mendikanten im Osten. M.-H. Blanchet bietet eine umfangreiche und methodenfokussierte Definition von Polemik in Bezug auf kontroverstheologische Literatur, die sie am Beispiel des Dialogue avec un Moine contre les Latins (1442) des Théodore Agallianos illustriert: Instrumente bzw. Stilmittel der Polemik sind die bewusste Vermischung von Themen und Zugangsweisen, die missbräuchliche Verallgemeinerung, Böswilligkeit und Unaufrichtigkeit in der Argumentation, Wortspiele und bewusste Sinnentstellungen, Schmähung und Beschimpfung sowie die Belustigung auf Kosten des Gegenübers.42 A. Riebe versteht in ihrer Studie über Patriarch Johannes XI. Bekkos Rom in Gemeinschaft mit Konstantinopel eine „scharf und profiliert kontroverstheologisch[e]“ Ausrichtung eines Textes als Gegenteil eines Tons, der „vermittelnd-versöhnlich ist“.43 A. Dondaine benennt in seiner zum Standartwerk gewordenen Studie Contra Graecos ein polemisches Werk klar als ein „oeuvre apologétique“.44 Auf dem Hintergrund dieser Sammlung von Merkmalen der Polemik innerhalb der Ost-West-Kontroverse soll nun gezeigt werden, ob und inwiefern der Tractatus contra Graecos jene Merkmale trägt und unter das Stichwort Polemik zu stellen ist: Zwei Elemente, die allen vorhergenannten Definitionen gemeinsam sind, gelten auch und besonders für den Tractatus contra Graecos: Erstens, so der Grundtenor, setzen sich polemische Werke auf unterschiedliche Weise mit einem—realen oder fiktiven—Gegenüber auseinander und sind in Abgrenzung zu diesem verfasst. Der anonyme Autor des Traktats kann für diese Auseinandersetzung nach eigenen Angaben zu einem großen Ausmaß auf schriftliche Quellen der Griechen aus ihren klösterlichen Archiven und Bibliotheken zurückgreifen, außerdem auf mündlich geführte Debatten, die er hin und wieder 40

Delacroix-Besnier, “Les Prêcheurs, du dialogue à la polémique,” 151. Vgl. den Titel des fünften Kapitels (et passim) ihrer unveröffentlichten Habilitationsschrift: Claudine Delacroix-Besnier, Philippe de Péra O.P., De oboedientia ecclesiae Romanae debita. Un polémiste dominicain devant l’histoire du schisme grec (Rouen, 2007). Ich danke Christopher Schabel für das Manuskript, das er mir zur Verfügung gestellt hat. 42 Vgl. Marie-Hélène Blanchet, Théodore Agallianos. Dialogue avec un moine contre les Latins (1442). Édition critique, traduction française et commentaire (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2013), 114-115. 43 Alexandra Riebe, Rom in Gemeinschaft mit Konstantinopel. Patriarch Johannes XI. Bekkos als Verteidiger der Kirchenunion von Lyon (1274) (Wiesbaden: Harrasowitz, 2005), 293. 44 Dondaine, “Contra Graecos,” 428. 41

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in seinem Text als solche ausweist.45 Zweitens zielen nach oben genannten Definitionen polemische Werke nicht auf einen Konsens oder gar auf Kompromisslösungen, sondern konzentrieren sich auf die Verteidigung und/oder Vermittlung des Eigenen. Im Fall des Tractatus contra Graecos bedeutet das, dass den Griechen Wege aufgezeigt werden sollen, die unerlässlich für die diesseitige Einheit der Kirche und für die jenseitige Erlangung des Seelenheiles sind, und dass diese Wege ident sind mit der lateinisch-westlichen Tradition bzw. mit deren Verständnis des Autors. Diesem Vorverständnis passt der Autor, wie gezeigt wurde, seine Methode an. Da der Autor sein Werk expressis verbis als Handreichung für jene verfasst hat, die in direkter Auseinandersetzung und Konfrontation mit den griechischen Argumenten stehen, soll der Traktat dem Rezipienten als Modell und Muster dienen, wie ein solcher Disput im Idealfall zu verlaufen habe, damit er als sieg- bzw. erfolgreich verbucht werden kann. Dies impliziert, dass es nicht das Ziel eines derartigen—mündlich oder schriftlich geführten—Disputs ist, seine inhaltlichen Entfaltungsmöglichkeiten im Sinne eines konstruktiven Dialogs zu fördern, sondern dass das Ziel einer solchen Auseinandersetzung von Vornherein festgelegt ist. Anders als bei einer „positiven Darstellung“, wie G. Avvakumov formuliert, geht es also darum, siegreich aus einer Debatte hervorzugehen und die Mittel der bestmöglichen Erlangung dieses Sieges anzupassen. Ein weiteres Merkmal, das den Traktat als polemisches Werk charakterisiert, ist—drittens—die an mehreren Stellen vorzufindende Abqualifizierung und Herabwürdigung der Meinung, der Expertise oder gar der Person des Gegenübers, die damit als gegenstandslos, belächelnswert oder gar frevlerisch dargestellt wird und auf diesem Hintergrund umso mehr einer Korrektur und Rückführung bedürfe. Der Autor verwendet entsprechende Stilmittel in der Argumentation (argumentum ad hominem,46 Ironie47 usw.) bzw. bedient sich abwertender Zuschreibungen bis hin zu Be45

Vgl. etwa die Erwähnung in Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 24v (PG 140, 527), dass er die Chrysostomos-Codices aus den Bibliotheken der Griechen zur Prüfung ihrer Behauptungen studiert hat bzw. in Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 31r (PG 140, 540), dass er in familiari colloquio mit den Griechen debattiert hat. 46 Vgl. etwa die Bezeichnung der Griechen als Lügner und Erfinder von falschen Tatsachen (Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 2v [PG 140, 490] et passim); die Position der Griechen sei in manchen Belangen nichts als Geschwätz—deliramentum (Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 6v [PG 140, 497] et passim)—und lächerlich (Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 25r [PG 140, 528] et passim). 47 Vgl. etwa die sinngemäße Wiedergabe des Sprichwortes ‚Wer anderen eine Grube gräbt, fällt selbst hinein‘: in laqueum, quem nobis paraverunt, inciderunt (Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 13v [PG 140, 508]).

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leidigungen (die Kirche der Griechen sei nunc erroris caligine obfuscata,48 geschichtlich betrachtet habe sie viele Keime der Häresie hervorgebracht49 usw.) und kreiert damit ein Ungleichgewicht der Beteiligten, das analog zum zweiten Merkmal auf eine Stärkung und Unterfütterung der eigenen Position zielt.

5. Resümee Von einer polemischen Methode zu sprechen, die die Tonart der Kommunikation vorgibt, wird der differenzierten Herangehensweise von als Polemik charakterisierten Werken nur zum Teil gerecht. Wie anhand eines Schlüsselwerkes ost-westlicher theologischer Polemik des 13. Jahrhunderts, des Tractatus contra Graecos (1252), gezeigt werden konnte, steht seine Charakterisierung als Polemik auf drei Säulen, die sich als generelle Merkmale von (ost-westlicher) Polemik erweisen: Polemik qualifiziert sich als (1) Auseinandersetzung in Form von Abgrenzung; sie intendiert (2) keine Konsens- oder Kompromissorientierung, sondern das Ziel, siegbzw. erfolgreich aus einer Debatte oder Konfrontation hervorzugehen; sie akzeptiert oder fördert gar die (3) Anpassung der Mittel zur Erreichung dieses Zieles. Dass sich die Herangehensweisen der Autoren an ihr Gegenüber unter diesem ‚Mantel‘ der Polemik als erstaunlich vielfältig und einfallsreich erweist, wird bei einer ersten Qualifizierung als Polemik oft übersehen. Aus theologiegeschichtlicher Perspektive und gerade im Hinblick darauf, dass der heutige ökumenische Dialog immer rückgebunden an seine historischen Verankerungen stattfindet, gilt es umso mehr, das jeweilige hinter den Methoden stehende Kirchenbild und die mit ihm korrespondierenden kirchlichen Einheitsvorstellungen herauszufiltern und sie zum Gegenstand des theologischen Gesprächs zu machen.

48 49

Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 1r (PG 140, 487). Vgl. Vat. lat. 4066, fol. 1r (PG 140, 487) et passim.

CHAPTER ELEVEN AN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY PROJECT FOR THE CONVERSION OF SOUTHERN SLAVS TO CATHOLICISM: KRASTYO PEYKICH’S ZARCALO ISTINE (1716) IVA MANOVA

This essay considers one aspect of the broader theme of this volume, one that can best be defined as “rendering the themes of polemical theology in vernacular languages.” It deals specifically with a work which, for the first time in the thousand years of the Orthodox-Catholic or Greek-Latin religious controversy, articulated the points of disagreement between the Eastern and Western Churches in a vernacular Southern Slavic, or rather “Illyrian”1 language. The work in question is Zarcalo istine med Carkve Istoþne i Zapadnje2 (The mirror of the truth between the Eastern and Western Churches), published in Venice in 1716 by Krastyo Peykich.3

1

The term “Illyrian language” has several meanings: firstly, it may refer to the historical language of the ancient Illyrians; secondly, it may stand for the Croatian language; and lastly, in the context of the tradition established by the Renaissance humanists and then reaffirmed by certain theologians of the Counter-Reformation, it designated an imagined language common (or at least comprehensible) to all Southern Slavic peoples. The last mentioned meaning is applied in the present text. Taken in this sense “Illyrian” connotes no real entity: it is the name of an ideal, imagined universal Slavic language, and for this reason in this essay it is constantly put in quotation marks. 2 Here and elsewhere, the graphemes used in Peykich’s work Zarcalo istine are transliterated according to the modern Croatian writing system. My transliteration of Bulgarian names and of book and article titles in Bulgarian follows the Bulgarian Law for Transliteration (2009).

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1. Krastyo Peykich’s Life and Works Krastyo Peykich4 was born on 14 September 1666 in the small town of Chiprovats (or “Kiprovats,” nowadays “Chiprovtsi”) which lies in a valley hidden in the hills of the Balkan mountains in present-day north-west Bulgaria, which at that time fell well within the borders of the Ottoman Empire.5 He belonged to a Catholic community, probably of late medieval origin, which, although representing a minority in the Bulgarian, traditionally Greek-Orthodox, population, had experienced, from the beginning of the seventeenth century, a period of economic and cultural growth. The missionary zeal of the post-Tridentine Catholic Church had contributed to the creation of connections between the local church hierarchy and the Congregation de Propaganda Fide.6 In the second half of the seventeenth century, Chiprovats was the centre of Bulgarian Catholicism, and the archbishop of Sofia held his seat in the Observant Franciscan monastery there in preference to the city of Sofia.7 However, the rise of Catholicism 3

Karst Peikiþ, Zarcalo istine med Carkve Istoþne i Zapadnje (u Mnecie/Venezia: po Nikoli Peccanu, 1716) [henceforth referred to as Zarcalo]. 4 “Krastyo Peykich” (Ʉɪɴɫɬɶɨ ɉɟɣɤɢɱ) is the form of the name of our author used in recent Bulgarian scholarly literature. It should, however, be noted that this form does not match any autograph spelling of his name. Peykich signed his Italian letters and documents as “Cristoforo Peichich”; in his Latin works, his name appeared as “Christophorus Peichich,” and the form used in his “Illyrian” work reads “Karst Peikiþ.” 5 The birthplace of the author has been widely debated. For a summary of the question, see Iva Manova, “Krastyo Peykich (1666-1730) i Mohamedanina, obuchen v saglasie s Korana spored Hristovia zakon (1717),” in Arhiv za srednovekovna filosofia i kultura/Archiv für mittelalterliche Philosophie und Kultur, Heft 18, ed. Tzotcho Boiadjiev, Georgi Kapriev, and Andreas Speer (Sofia: Iztok-Zapad, 2012), 193-235, especially 209, footnote 35. 6 On the relations between the Propaganda fide and Bulgarian Catholics, see Basilio Pandžiü, “L’opera della S. Congregazione per le popolazioni della penisola Balcanica Centrale,” in Sacrae Congregationis de Propaganda Fide memoria rerum, ed. Josef Metzler, 3 vols. (Rom et al.: Herder, 1971-1976), vol. II, 706-722; Petru Tocanel, “Assestamento delle Missioni in Bulgaria, Valacchia, Transilvania e Moldavia,” ibid., 722-741. 7 On Bulgarian Catholicism in the seventeenth century and some of its leading figures, the following studies are available: Krassimir Stantchev, “I francescani e il Cattolicesimo in Bulgaria fino al secolo XIX,” in I francescani nella storia dei popoli balcanici nell’VIII centenario della fondazione dell’Ordine, ed. Viviana Nosilia and Marco Scarpa (Venezia: ArchetipoLibri, 2011), 135-186; Sante Graciotti, “Chiese ortodosse e Chiesa Cattolica nel Balcano slavo sottomesso all’Islam ottomano,” Europa orientalis 26 (2007): 47-71; Ivan Dujþev, Il cattolicesimo in Bul-

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in Chiprovats came to an abrupt end in 1688. In October of that year, a regional revolt against the Ottoman Empire failed and resulted in the complete destruction of the town and the flight of over two thousand fugitives who sought refuge in various locations scattered between Walachia and Transylvania.8 We do not know if Peykich was in Chiprovats during the insurrection; he does not say so explicitly in any of the texts and documents available. The first document that touches upon the missionary service he would embark on dates to 1689. In that year we find Peykich in Venice, in the service of a certain “master.” Here he won the favour of Vincenzo Matevich (?–1704), at that time Prior of the House of the Catechumens,9 who recommended him to the Congregation de Propaganda Fide.10 Thanks

garia nel sec. XVII secondo i processi informativi sulla nomina dei vescovi cattolici (Roma: Pont. Institutum Orientalium Studiorum, 1937); id., Sofiyskata katolishka arhiepiskopia prez XVII vek. Izuchavane i dokumenti (Sofia: Balgarski Arheologicheski Institut, 1939). Among the editions of primary sources, the most important ones are included in the above-mentioned books by Ivan Dujþev, as well as in István G. Tóth, ed., Balgarskoto uchastie v katolicheski misii iz Ungaria i Transilvania prez ɏVȱȱ-ɏVȱȱȱ v. Dokumenti ot Arhiva na Svetata kongregatsia za razprostranenie na vyarata, Vatikana 1637-1716 g. (Sofia: Akademichno Izdatelstvo “Prof. Marin Drinov,” 2008) [containing documents concerning Bulgarian Catholic missionaries selected by István Tóth from his edition Litterae missionariorum de Hungaria et Transilvania (1572–1717), 5 vols. (Rome: Romai Magyar Akademia/Budapest: METEM, 2002-2008)], and in Eusebius Fermendžin, ed., Acta Bulgariae ecclesiastica ab a. 1565 usque ad a. 1799 (Zagabriae: JAZU, 1887). 8 On the history of the Bulgarian expatriates’ peregrinations in Walachia and Transylvania, see Lyubomir Miletich, “Sedmigradskite balgari,” Sbornik za narodni umotvorenia, nauka i knizhnina 13 (1896): 153-256; id., “Zaselenieto na katolishkite balgari v Sedmigradsko i Banat,” Sbornik za narodni umotvorenia, nauka i knizhnina 14 (1897): 284-543. These and other, now classical, contributions by Miletich have been reprinted in a single volume under the title Izsledvania za balgarite v Sedmigradsko i Banat (Sofia: Nauka i izkustvo, 1987). For a recent account and an up-to-date bibliography, see, for example, Lyubomir Georgiev, Balgarite katolitsi v Transilvania i Banat (XVIII – parvata polovina na XIX vek) (Sofia: Natsionalna Biblioteka “Sv. sv. Kiril i Metodij,” 2010). 9 On the House of the Catechumens in Venice, the most important studies are those of Pietro Ioly Zorattini, I nomi degli altri. Conversioni a Venezia e nel Friuli Veneto in età moderna (Firenze: Leo S. Olschki Editore, 2008) and Natalie Rothman, Brokering Empire. Trans-Imperial Subjects between Venice and Istanbul (IthacaLondon: Cornell University Press, 2012). 10 Cf. the report on the reference letter signed by Matevich, with which Peykich presented himself in Rome, in: Città del Vaticano, Archivio Storico della Sacra Congregazione de Propaganda Fide [hereafter APF], Acta, vol. 59 (1689), 251. In

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to this recommendation, the young Bulgarian was accepted as a student at the Urban College11—the college of the Congregation—in Rome.12 Peykich remained at the College for almost nine years until 1698 when he left it (without, however, obtaining a degree) in order to become a missionary among his compatriots who were scattered throughout Transylvania and Walachia.13 Peykich served as a parish priest to his compatriots in Transylvania from 1700 to 1703. When the revolt of Prince Francis II Rákóczi against the Habsburgs broke out in 1703, Peykich, together with his parishioners, was forced to flee from Transylvania to Walachia. In that region, however, the refugees from Chiprovats were subject to the ecclesiastical jurisdiction of the Bulgarian Observant Franciscan Province, with which it was necessary for Peykich to find agreement. After a few months, quarrels with the Provincial Minister of the Order, Marco Peyachevich, drove Peykich to abandon

the Archive of the Propaganda there exist two copies of another letter written in the first person and containing Peykich’s request to be enrolled in the Urban College. Neither of the copies is dated or written in his own hand (APF, Scritture originali riferite nelle Congregazioni generali [hereafter SOCG], vol. 505, cartae [hereafter cc.] 58r and 59r). A photographic reproduction of the copy marked as c. 59r has been published in the catalogue of the exhibition Bulgaria e la storia bulgara negli Archivi Vaticani e nella Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (secc. XV-XVIII). In occasione del 300° anniversario dell’insurrezione di ýiprovec del 1688 (Sofia: Sofia Presse, 1988), “tavola 46.” 11 For details about the Urban College, see Maksimilijan Jezernik, “Il Collegio Urbano,” in Sacrae Congregationis, ed. J. Metzler, vol. I/1, 465-482; Giovanni Pizzorusso, “I satelliti di Propaganda fide: Il Collegio Urbano e la Tipografia Poliglotta. Note di ricerca su due istituzioni culturali romane nel XVII secolo,” Mélanges de l’École française de Rome. Italie et Méditerranée 116 (2004): 471-498. 12 The information about Peykich contained in the enrolment register of the Urban College in Rome is noteworthy. In fact, the entry under his name indicates that at the moment of his enrolment (in 1689) he knew “a little grammar” and could “read and write a little” (sa un poco la grammatica, e sa un poco leggere e scrivere), presumably in Latin. He is also said to know “Illyrian,” Albanian, and Turkish (sa la lingua Illirica, l’Albanese e la Turchesca) (Città del Vaticano, Archivio del Collegio della Sacra Congregazione de Propaganda Fide, Registro I, 177). I quote from Josip Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja Krsto Pejkiü (1665-1731) (Zagreb: Kršanska sadašnjost, 1973), 177. 13 According to the note in the Acts of the meetings of the cardinals, Peykich left on 9 September 1698, in obedience to the wishes of Cardinal Kollonitz (APF, Acta, vol. 68 [1698], 53). Leopold Karl von Kollonitz (1631-1707) was a cardinal, the archbishop of Esztergom (from 1695), and the primate of Hungary.

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Walachia in order to travel to Rome to plead his own cause.14 However, he never reached his destination: having arrived in Venice on 19 February,15 by all accounts shortly after the death of Vincenzo Matevich, he was almost immediately elected Prior of the House of the Catechumens,16 and he remained here until 1709. His resignation, recorded on 9 April 1709, was presented in the following terms: “The Prior Don Cristoforo Peichich by order of the Congregation de Propaganda Fide goes back to his Mission.”17 In the decades that followed, Peykich worked once again as a missionary, parish priest, and canon in Hungary, Transylvania, Walachia, and Croatia. By order of the bishop of Transylvania, Georgius Martonffy (György Mártonffi, 1663–1721), he became parish priest of the settlement of Chiprovats refugees in Alvinc (now the town of VinĠu de Jos in Romania) in 1720.18 Peykich remained there until 1725, when the brothers of the Bulgarian Observant Franciscan Province obtained the parish,19 following which Peykich was compelled to relinquish his office and march on in search of a new post and, if fortune allowed it, a quiet haven after long years of wandering. There are documents testifying to the fact that in 1728 Peykich became the first canon of the Belgrade cathedral. However, these also reveal that in 1730 he was still not in residence there since the cathedral was in need of renovation and refurnishing.20 The date and the 14

Published editions of Peykich’s letters to the Holy Congregation from the period between 1704–1705 can be found in: Fermendžin, Acta Bulgariae ecclesiastica, 325-327 (Tirgoviste in Walachia, 4 June 1704); Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 180 (Tirgoviste, 30 October 1704); ibid., 181-183 (Bucharest, 22 November 1704, and Venice, 21 February 1705); ibid., 185 (Venice, 21 February 1705); Ioan Moga, “Stiri despre Bulgarii din Ardeal,” Annuarul Istitutului de istorie natională a Univ. Cluj 5 (1929/30): 513-519, especially 518-519 (Tirgoviste, 15 April 1704). 15 Cf. Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 181-183 (APF, SOCG, vol. 550, cc. 371r372v; c. 373r). 16 In the spring of 1705, the nuncio in Venice, Agostino Cusani, wrote to the Propaganda to report that Peykich had been elected as the new prior of the Catechumens and to present the Bulgarian’s request for authorization to maintain this service. Peykich obtained permission to hold that position on the 19th of May 1705 (APF, Acta, vol. 75 [1705], 180). 17 “Il Priore don Cristoforo Peichich per ordine della Congregazione di Propaganda Fide torna alle sue Missioni.” Cf. the entry in Venezia, the Archivio delle Istituzioni di Ricovero e di Educazione, CAT B 17 (6 marzo 1708–settembre 1711), Terminazioni, c. 34v (9 aprile 1709). 18 APF, SOCG, vol. 628, c. 345r-v (Vienna, 22 December 1720). 19 Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 63. 20 Mita Kostiü, “Biobibliografski prilozi za Krstu Pejkiüa,” Prilozi za književnost, jezik, istoriju i folklor 12 (1932): 84-85. In his article Kostiü refers to the protocols of the meetings of the New Acquisitions Commission kept in the Viennese Kam-

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circumstances surrounding the death of Krastyo Peykich are not known, though the letters which he wrote during the last years of his life were all composed in Vienna and certain data contained in these letters suggest that he died there in 1730.21 By 1716, the year in which he published his Zarcalo istine, Peykich had already been serving as canon of the Cathedral of Pécs in Hungary for a couple of years. Pécs had been annexed to the Habsburg Empire in 1686, and since then an active process of Catholic confessionalization was underway there. In addition, a union between the Catholic and the Orthodox Churches (the so-called Union of Pécs) had been established in 1690. So, it was hardly an accident that the Zarcalo appeared precisely in that moment. In fact, when approaching Peykich’s works, we should consider his activity within the broader cultural and political context of the Habsburgs’ early eighteenth-century policies, which were aimed at the religious integration of their subjects and the consolidation of Catholicism as the “state religion” in their Empire. From this perspective, Peykich’s polemical works served as a catalyst for the union between the “schismatic” Orthodox Church and the Catholic Church and for the conversion of Lutheran and Calvinist “heretics” and Muslim “infidels” to Catholicism. Written in a variant of the Southern Slavic language, Zarcalo istine was Peykich’s first publication. It was followed by his Speculum veritatis (Venice 1725) which was an extended version of the Zarcalo in Latin. These two works dealt with the question of schism between the Churches of Constantinople and Rome. His Concordia orthodoxorum Patrum orientalium et occidentalium (Trnava 1730) examined more closely one aspect of the same question. All three conformed in many ways to the literary genre of polemical theology, yet also seemed to be animated by an irenic spirit, whose aim was to promote the reunification of the Eastern and Western churches. The Additamentum is an appendix to the Speculum veritatis.22 It comprises several explanatory and complementary notes to

merarchiv. Kostiü’s article was partly reprinted in Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 192-193. 21 APF, SOCG, vol. 649, cc. 411r-414v (Vienna, 7 July 1725; only a copy of the original letter is extant); vol. 661, cc. 272r-273v (Vienna, 20 April 1728); vol. 666, c. 83r-v (Vienna, 30 September 1729); APF, SOCG, vol. 668, cc. 191r-192v (Vienna, 18 February 1730; Vienna, 31 March 1730). 22 A second edition of the Speculum was printed in Trnava in 1730 and a second edition of the Concordia also appeared there in the same year. These two publications can only be found bound together in a single volume together with the Additamentum. Most likely the Additamentum was printed as a separate fascicle; nonetheless, all the extant copies are bound together with one of the two editions

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the Speculum written in a highly polemical style. Finally, the Mahometanus dogmatice, et catechetice in lege Christi, Alcorano suffragante, instructus, printed in Trnava in 1717,23 is the only one of Peykich’s books which belongs to the genre of Christian-Muslim polemics and takes the form of a “catechism” for Catholic missionaries carrying out their activity among Muslims.24

2. Zarcalo istine med Carkve Istoþne i Zapadnje Peykich’s Zarcalo istine med Carkve Istoþne i Zapadnje is a short book of ten chapters which narrates the history of the separation and alienation between the Eastern and Western Churches. In the main, it can be read as a “chronicle of the schism,” tracking the different stages in the destruction of the unity between the two churches; only a minor part of the work is dedicated to the discussion of the ecclesiological and theological differences between them. of the Speculum. Regarding the uncertainties concerning the exact date and place of the publishing of the Additamentum and its presence in some copies of the Speculum of 1725, see Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 103-105. 23 For an analysis of this work by Peykich, see my forthcoming articles: “An Adaptation of the Roman Catechism for the Religious Education of Muslim Converts to Catholicism: Krastyo Peykich’s The Mohammedan Educated in the Law of Christ (1717)” to be published in the proceedings of the Conference Trento and Beyond. The Council, Other Powers, Other Cultures (Fondazione “Bruno Kessler” / Centro per le Scienze Religiose / Istituto Storico Germano-Italico, Trent, 3–5 October 2013), ed. Adriano Prosperi and Michaela Catto (Turnhout: Brepols); and “L’ars convincendi Mahometanos: Krastyo Peykich e la Casa dei Catecumeni nella Venezia di inizio Settecento” to be published in Atti Classe Scienze Morali dell’ Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti, 173 (2015). 24 In what follows I describe—briefly and in chronological order—only the archetypal editions of Peykich’s works. Bibliological information on these editions and on the subsequent ones can be found in Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja. Apart from the Zarcalo quoted in footnote 3, Peykich’s works are the following: Christophorus Peichich, Mahometanus dogmatice, et catechetice in lege Christi, Alcorano suffragante, instructus (Tyrnaviae/Trnava: Typis Academicis per Fridericum Gall, 1717); id., Speculum veritatis inter Orientalem et Occidentalem Ecclesias refulgens (Venetiis/Venezia: Typis Societatis Albrizianae, 1725) [henceforth referred to as Speculum]; id., Additamentum ad Speculum veritatis ([Tyrnaviae/Trnava?], [1727?]) [henceforth referred to as Additamentum]; id., Concordia orthodoxorum Patrum orientalium et occidentalium in eadem veritate, de Spiritus Sancti processione ab utroque, adamussim convenientium: ex commentariis Gennadii Patriarchae Constantinopolitani excerpta […] (Tyrnaviae/Trnava: Typis Academicis per Fridericum Gall, 1730).

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The first historical event included by Peykich in his chronicle is the Fourth Ecumenical Council of Chalcedon (451). This episode, and the decades of conflicts between Rome and Constantinople that followed it, are depicted by Peykich as the first rebellion of the Church of Constantinople against the authority of the Seat of Peter. The so-called schism of Patriarch Photius (ca. 810–ca. 893) in the ninth century is viewed in the Zarcalo as another key moment in the history of the split in the church. Two chapters of the Zarcalo are dedicated to this episode, when the question of filioque, that is the Latin addition to the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed, was raised for the first time. Peykich also includes in his narrative the Fourth Lateran (1215) and the Second Lyon (1274) Councils where the definition of the procession of the Holy Spirit ab utroque was established as a doctrine of the Catholic Church and the insertion of the clause “filioque” in the text of the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed was confirmed. The penultimate chapter of the Zarcalo is dedicated to the Council of FerraraFlorence and reports on the events that occurred in the period between the preparations for the organization of the Council in 1437 and the achievement of the union on 6 July 1439. It also narrates in brief the proceedings and the outcome of the most decisive sessions, and retells a part of the substance of the discussions held between opposing spokesmen. At the end of this chapter, the author cites a long passage from the Decree of the Council containing the precise definitions of the doctrines on which agreement had been reached as a result of the debates. In the last chapter of the book, the Catholic doctrine on these questions is set out and supported with quotations from the Bible and the Greek Fathers. Peykich examines, in particular, the four Catholic doctrines which were regarded by the early modern Catholic Church as vital for the reunification of the Eastern Church with the Western one. These four doctrines were: the procession of the Holy Spirit from both the Father and the Son, the universal primacy of the pope, the existence of purgatory, and the use of unleavened bread for the Eucharist. They correspond to the four theological and ecclesiastical differences discussed at the Council of FerraraFlorence (1438–1439). The formulations agreed on by the Fathers of that council were written down in the Decree and signed on the 5th of July 1439 by all the participants, albeit reluctantly by many members of the Greek delegation; there was also one dissenter—Mark Eugenicus, the metropolitan of Ephesus, who opposed the formulations. The Council of Florence and the respective Decree became the benchmark for all the subsequent attempts of the Catholic Church to win over the Eastern

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Churches, and the conditions for later unions, such as those of Brest (1596) or Alba Julia (1698), were modelled on them.25 A trilingual Latin-Greek-Slavic version of the Decree of Florence bearing the signatures of Eugene IV and eight cardinals was drawn up immediately after the achievement of the union in 1439. Copies of the Slavic version were taken to the Grand Principality of Moscow and the neighbouring principalities, where they gave origin to a significant manuscript tradition.26 Yet, Peykich’s translation of the text of the Decree (quoted at the end of chapter nine of the Zarcalo) does not seem to depend on the Florentine Slavic version of it, and there is no evidence that he knew of its existence. The most likely source for chapters nine and ten of the Zarcalo 25

See Wilhelm de Vries, “Il problema ecumenico alla luce delle unioni realizzate in Oriente,” Orientalia christiana periodica 27 (1961): 64-81, especially 73; Paul Shore, Jesuits and the Politics of Religious Pluralism in Eighteenth-Century Transylvania: Culture, Politics and Religion, 1693-1773 (Aldershot-Burlington: Ashgate; Rome: Institutum Historicum Societatis Iesu, 2007), 31-32 and 55-88 (on the history of the Union of Alba Julia); Ernst Christoph Suttner, “Einheit der Kirche in Vielfalt gemäß den Vätern der Kirchenunionen von Brest und von Siebenbürgen und gemäß der Kirchenlehre des 2. Vatikan. Konzils,” in L’eredità di Cirillo e Metodio. Omaggio a Vittorio Peri, ed. Cesare Alzati, Marco Grusovin, and Sergio Tavano (Gorizia: Istituto per gli Incontri Culturali Mitteleuropei, 2009), 215-233. For the text of the Act of the Union, see Wilhelm de Vries, “L’Unione dei Rumeni (1697-1701),” Transylvanian review 6, no. 1 (1997): 3-26. An important source for the study of the history of the attempts at the union between the Western and Eastern Churches in Central, Eastern, and Southeastern Europe is Ernst Christoph Suttner, ed., Quellen zur Geschichte der Kirchenunionen des 16. bis 18. Jahrhunderts, übers. der lat. Quellentexte von Klaus und Michaela Zelzer (Freiburg: Inst. für Ökumenische Studien, 2010). 26 The Slavic sources for the Council of Florence have been published in Johannes Krajcar, ed., Acta Slavica Concilii Florentini (Roma: Pontificium Institutum Orientalium Studiorum, 1976). Concerning the Slavic version of the Decree and its history in Eastern Europe, see, for example, Marcello Garzaniti, “Il Decreto di Unione del Concilio di Ferrara-Firenze e la sua versione slava,” in Oriente ed Occidente a San Marco da Cosimo il Vecchio a Giorgio La Pira. Alla riscoperta della collezione di icone russe dei Lorena (Firenze: Polistampa, 2004), 35-40; Evgenij M. Lomize, “K voprosu o vosprijatii Ferraro-florentijskogo sobora russkoj delegacii,” Slavjane i ih sosedi 6 (1996): 140-152; Lev V. Cherepnin, “K voprosu o russkih istoþnikah po istorii Florentijskoj unii,” Srednie veka 25 (1964): 176-187. For a linguistic analysis of the Slavic version of the Decree, see Helmut Keipert, “Der Weg des Russischen zur Weltsprache: das slavische Alternat der Konzilsbulle von Ferrara-Florenz vom 6. Juli 1439,” in Slavistische Linguistik 1986. Referate des XII. Konstanzer Slavistischen Arbeitstreffens (Frankfurt am Main/Riezlern 16.19. 9. 1986), ed. Gerd Freidhof and Peter Kosta (München: Otto Sagner, 1987), 233-276.

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are, as indicated by Turþinoviü, the Greek Acta of the Council of FerraraFlorence which were printed in Latin for the first time in 1638.27 Despite the fact that they are explicitly mentioned by Peykich only in the Additamentum of 1727,28 it is highly probable that these Acts were his source for drawing up the historical chapter nine and for the quotations from the Greek Fathers in the last chapter. As for the “chronicle of the schism” narrated in the first eight chapters of the Zarcalo, Turþinoviü conjectures that it is based on notes Peykich had taken while attending a course of controversial theology at the Urban College, notes he carried with him on his travels.29 This hypothesis has still not been verified. We know the name of the professor who taught the course of controversial theology at the Urban College during the academic years 1696–1697 and 1697–1698.30 He was Ivan Paštriü (Giovanni Ɋastrizio, 1636–1708) who took up the chair in 1669 and retained it for thirty consecutive years, until March 1700.31 He was also president of the Academy of Councils in Rome, a circle of scholars interested in controversial theology, ecclesiastical history, and canon law. One of the most learned 27

Horatius Iustinianus, ed., Acta Sacri Oecumenici Concilii Florentini (Romae: Typis Sac. Congr. de Fide Propaganda, 1638). The first Greek edition of the Greek Acta was published in 1577 (cf. Joseph Gill, Il Concilio di Firenze [Firenze: G.C. Sansoni, 1967, xiii]). There are three principal sources for the history of the Council: the Greek Acta, the Latin Acta, and the Memoirs of Silvester Siropulo, a member of the Greek delegation in Ferrara and Florence. The official Latin Acta have been lost, so what is known under the name of Latin Acta is the account of one of the participants in the Council, Andrea da Santa Croce (ibid., xi-xiii). See also Joseph Gill, “The Sources of the Acta of the Council of Florence,” Orientalia christiana periodica 14 (1948): 43-79. 28 Additamentum, 15. 29 Maksimilijan Jezernik reports that until the beginning of the eighteenth century the students at the College had no textbooks for the various courses at their disposal, but learned from the notes they had to take during lessons. Jezernik also gives a list of the authors whose books the students at the college had access to in the second half of the seventeenth century. Besides the Decrees of the Tridentine Council, the Roman Catechism, and the decrees of the provincial and local councils, this list also includes the works of Aristotle, Thomas Aquinas, Bellarmine and other important authors of the Counter-Reformation (Jezernik, “Il Collegio Urbano,” 476). 30 Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 26-27. 31 See Tomislav Mrkonjiü, Il teologo Ivan Paštriü (Giovanni Pastrizio) (1636-1708). Vita. Opere. Concezione della teologia. Cristologia (Roma: Pontificia facultas theologica “S. Bonaventurae,” 1989), 49. On Pastrizio’s life and works, see also Ivan Golub, Ivan Paštriü (Giovanni Pastrizio) – polihistor i teolog (1636-1708) (Zagreb: Kršüanska sadašnjost, 1988).

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men of his epoch, Paštriü left a voluminous corpus of manuscript works and notes preserved in various libraries.32 However, the size and the dispersion of his manuscript heritage hamper the verification of the question posed by Turþinoviü.

3. The First Book on Polemical Theology Ever Written in a Southern Slavic Language The core of the Zarcalo, consisting of ten chapters, is preceded by a dedicatory letter (in Latin), and a preface (in “Illyrian”). The dedicatory letter is addressed to the cardinals of the Congregation de Propaganda fide. In it, Peykich argues that the Eastern Roman Empire was conquered by the Ottomans “by the just judgment of God” since the Eastern Church had already in ancient times ceased to obey the See of Rome.33 But then, although Peykich might have considered it just for the Greek Church to languish in slavery,34 he reminds the cardinals that the eighteenth-century Eastern Church is not exclusively, and not even predominantly, Greek, but 32

A list of his manuscript works has been edited by Mrkonjiü, Il teologo Ivan Paštriü, 68-76. 33 Zarcalo, f. A3v (unnumbered page; in case of unnumbered pages, here and henceforth I refer to the fascicle). 34 In the conclusion to the Speculum, Peykich returns to the topic of the “Greeks” and their persistence in the schism. He states that the “Greeks” are stubbornly unwilling to concede defeat, particularly as regards the issue of the procession of the Holy Spirit, and this is the root cause of the whole problem. Here Peykich adds a few historical or “sociological” arguments that prove the errors of the “Greeks.” He reminds his readers that since the schism of Photius the “Greeks” have held no general councils, their church has not brought forth any saints, and only a few truly learned men have been its members. In contrast, during the same period the Latins have organized eleven ecumenical councils, have founded religious orders and become famous for their knowledge. Moreover, the Latins have spread their religion all over the world, even in the East and the West Indies. The Catholics have succeeded in regaining many of their territories from the “heretics” (Protestants), whereas the Greek Church is steadily losing members because they embrace Islam (cf. Speculum, 212-222). Finally, several Roman popes, the most powerful Christian rulers Leopold ȱ and Charles Vȱ, and also the Russian Tsar Peter have endeavoured to defeat the Turks and liberate the “Greeks.” How is it possible that their efforts have been vain? There can be no other explanation, Peykich claims, but that it is God’s punishment of the “Greeks” for their persistence in maintaining the schism induced by Photius (cf. ibid., 223-224). In this book, and more so in his later works Additamentum and Concordia, Peykich attributes great importance to the role of Patriarch Photius in causing division in the church.

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“Illyrian,” or, as one would say today, “Slavic,” in the sense that many Slavic-speaking nations (idiomate utentes Illyro) belong to it.35 According to him, many of his “Illyrian brothers” belong to the Greek Church merely out of ignorance and would gladly embrace the Catholic truth if only someone revealed it to them. In fact, their error and their state of subjugation might well be a source of sadness and concern for him, writes Peykich, but what makes him weep even more bitterly is that among so many highly learned and saintly men who have written most prolifically in both Greek and Latin against the aforesaid separation of the Greeks, not a single one has written anything, however short, in the Illyrian language and characters that would serve this purpose.36

Peykich further explains that he has composed his book in the “Illyrian” language as a means to benefit his “Illyrian brothers,” so that they might learn from where they had been torn away and to where they were expected to return.37 The concept of the “Illyrian language” applied by Peykich in this passage is a concept of a language common (or at least comprehensible) to all Southern Slavic peoples. In Peykich’s eyes, the possibility of using a universal “Illyrian” language was seen as an instrument for religious unification which, in turn, was interpreted as the necessary basis for the political unification of Southern Slavs with other Catholic nations under the Catholic Emperor.38 Peykich’s view was by no means unusual in the early modern age. By the time he drew up his Zarcalo istine, distinguished men of letters, such as the Jesuit Bartol Kašiü (Bartholomaeus Cassius, 1575–1650), the author of the first Croatian grammar, or the Croatian Franciscan Rafael Levakoviü (1597–1649), had been exploring the possibility of using “a universal 35

“Ecclesia Orientalis dicitur quidem, et esto titulo tali quali græca, universaliori tamen si spectetur oculo nonnisi Illyra dicenda, et esse comprobatur” (Zarcalo, f. A4r-v). 36 “Et quod me magis ad lacrymas compellit, Eminentissimi Patres, est, quod cum tot doctissimi æque, ac sanctissimi viri adversus dictam Græcorum separationem immensa volumina Græco, aut Latino sermone conscripserint, nullus ex professo Illyrico caractere, ac idiomate quidquam vel in minimo libello exaraverit” (Zarcalo, f. A4r). 37 Cf. Zarcalo, ff. A4r-A5r. 38 Cf. Michaela Iovine, “The ‘Illyrian Language’ and the Language Question among the Southern Slavs in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,” in Aspects of the Slavic Language Question, vol. I. Church Slavonic–South Slavic–West Slavic, ed. Riccardo Picchio and Harvey Goldblatt (New Haven: Yale Concilium of International and Area Studies, 1984), 101-156, especially 139.

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lingua illirica as a missionary tool in the Slavic Balkans”39 for almost a century. According to the philologist Michaela Iovine, in their unflagging search for the “language” capable of the broadest dissemination of Catholic doctrine, the workers of the Counter-Reformation in the Balkans seem to have conceived of a flexible linguistic model (vaguely referred to as “Illyrian”) which could be adapted or adjusted to the linguistic exigencies of the individual circumstances.40

More specifically, with regard to the Bulgarian Catholic missionaries, Iovine writes that they were fairly free (and indeed expected) to devise an adequate linguistic tool for the dissemination of Catholic Propaganda. Thus Bulgarian Catholic writers began to conduct linguistic “experimentations” based on their own notions of the “Illyrian” language.41

Another philologist, Nayda Ivanova, has studied and described in detail the concrete characteristics of the “Illyrian literary language in Peykich.” In her opinion, the “experimental” language of the Zarcalo is a synthesis of the competing literary traditions of the Croatian language area.42 Furthermore, Ivanova’s analysis reveals the way in which Peykich, in his prototype of an idioma illyricum, combined elements from the different Croatian traditions on the one hand, and introduced Italian, Latin, and Bulgarian linguistic usages on the other. In short, in his “Illyrian” work Peykich used a mixed, “experimental” grammatical norm. This naturally makes it difficult to comprehend the Zarcalo. The graphic system employed in the book,43 the so-called Bosnian Cyrillic script (bosanþica),44 may have equally contributed to making the text a challenging task to read since, by 39

Ibid., 126. Ibid., 138. 41 Ibid., 133. Concerning this question, see also Nayda Ivanova, “Iliriyskiyat ezik na yuzhnite slavyani v balgarskoto knizhnoezikovo razvitie prez 17 v. Chast I,” Annuaire de L’Université de Sofia “Kliment Ohridski.” Faculté des Philologies Slaves, Livre 1: Linguistique 78 (1984): 34-93. 42 Nayda Ivanova, Krastyo Peykich v yuzhnoslavyanskite knizhno-ezikovi kontakti ot nachaloto na 18 vek (unpublished manuscript, 1990), 281-282. 43 Ivanova, Krastyo Peykich, 80. 44 On Bosnian Cyrillic script, see, among others, Arturo Cronia, Storia della letteratura serbo-croata, 2nd ed. (Milano: Nuova Accademia, 1963), 101-102; Michele Lacko, “Il problema della lingua e della scrittura nelle secentesche edizioni slave di Propaganda fide,” in Barocco in Italia e nei paesi slavi del Sud, ed. Vittorio Branca and Sante Graciotti (Firenze: Leo S. Olschki, 1983), 387-394. 40

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the beginning of the eighteenth century, this script, once favoured by the Bosnian Franciscans, had already become outdated.45 Another problematic aspect of the edition of the Zarcalo were the printer’s alleged errors.46 Peykich himself was aware of this problem, as he wrote in the preface to the Latin version of the work, the Speculum: In that first edition [the “Illyrian” Zarcalo istine], there were so many errors that crept in while the book was being printed that I myself could hardly recognize my work. This very same book I converted into the Latin language and script so that any conscientious man could have an easy chance to render it not only in Illyrian but also in other languages and scripts.47

In actual fact, the Speculum veritatis is not just a Latin translation of the Zarcalo but a modified and significantly amplified version of it. The differences, both those of content and form, between the two versions have been thoroughly catalogued by Josip Turþinoviü.48 The most important formal changes are the modifications in the order of exposition of the four controversial questions in the doctrinal part of the work and the addition of a proper conclusion. With regard to the content, some minor changes, mainly abridgements, occur in chapters four, seven, eight, and nine. Chapter ten is substantially expanded: while it takes up only twenty pages out of one hundred and nine in the Zarcalo, it constitutes more than half of the two hundred and thirty-five pages of the Speculum.

45

Sanja Vuliü, “The Multilingualism of Krsto Pejkiü,” in Plurilingvizem v Evropi 18. stoletja, ed. Fedora Ferluga-Petronio (Maribor: Slavistiþno društvo Maribor, 2002), 179-189, especially 183. See also Sanja Vuliü, “Krsto Pejkiü u Hrvatskoj Filologij,” in Balgari i harvati v yugoiztochna Evropa Vȱȱ-ɏɏȱ vek. Materiali ot konferentsia, provedena v Sofia (3-4 yuni) 2005 g. (Sofia: Gutenberg, 2006), 31-50. 46 In a letter of 6 February 1718, Peykich provided a different explanation for the morphological and grammatical inconsistences found in his Zarcalo. He mentioned a certain Marco Milich, a priest at the Church of St Leo in Venice, to whom he had given the manuscript of the Zarcalo to be taken to the printer. But because the printer found Peykich’s handwriting difficult to read, Milich copied the whole book for him. Being inexperienced in this kind of work, however, Milich “introduced errors” and made the book unrecognizable even to its author (APF, SOCG, vol. 612, c. 122r-v). 47 “In illa prima editione tot, ac tanti in typographia irrepserant errores, ut ipsemet opusculum meum vix agnoscere possem. Hinc . . . libellum eundem . . . verti in linguam, et caracteres Latinos, quatenus cuique pio illum, tum in Illyricam, tum in alias linguas, ac caracteres daretur transferendi obvia facultas.” (Speculum, f. *3r-v.) 48 Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 114-116.

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There are at least two possible reasons for this development of the text. Firstly, it seems that over the years Peykich in some way modified his approach. Initially, he was convinced that by simply telling the story of the schism he would make it clear to his readers that “the cause of the church’s disunity are the Greeks, while the cause of its unity are the Latins.”49 Later, he became convinced that this was not enough and that there was a need for expounding and defending the Catholic doctrine more thoroughly.50 Secondly, it is immediately evident that Peykich mastered writing in Latin better than writing in “Illyrian.” His language in the Zarcalo is generally less precise and more figurative, whereas the language of the Speculum is much more technical and accurate, allowing the author to treat the debated questions with precision and in detail. Two corresponding sentences taken from the Zarcalo and the Speculum respectively illustrate this point very eloquently. The sentence from the Zarcalo reads: “During those conferences, it was clearly and quickly declared that the Holy Spirit proceeds both from the Father and the Son.”51 This was rendered into Latin as follows:52 During these [i.e., the conferences] it was dealt in detail with the procession of the Holy Spirit from Both. Also discussed were the Divine Persons as well as related terms such as “nature,” “essence,” “substance,” “subsistence,” and “hypostasis,” whereby the quiddity of the Persons and the differences between them were distinctly pointed out.53

Since the Zarcalo istine was the first book on the Orthodox-Catholic theological controversy ever written in a Southern Slavic language,54 it is not surprising that Peykich was not able to produce “Illyrian” counterparts—whether ordinary Slavic lexemes, neologisms, or transliterations— for the whole range of technical terms applied in Trinitarian theology.55 49

“Razdvoenia cerkvenoga uzrok garci iesu; iedinstva latini.” (Zarcalo, 18.) Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 157. 51 “U ovieh pregovaraniah bi þisto, i bistro oþitovano, da duh sveti izhodi od oca, i od Sina.” (Zarcalo, 75.) 52 In both works the sentences quoted here occur in chap. 9, § 14. 53 “In his diffuse actum de processione Spiritus Sancti ab utroque, de Personis Divinis, ac de vocibus, natura, essentia, substantia, subsistentia, ac hypostasi, distincte docendo quidditatem, et differentiam earum.” (Speculum, 102.) 54 Vuliü, “The Multilingualism,” 181; id., “Krsto Pejkiü,” 32 and 33. 55 For a table of equivalent theological, philosophical, and ecclesiological terms in the Zarcalo and the Speculum, see Iva Manova, “Illyrico caractere, ac idiomate: filosofskata i bogoslovskata leksika v Ogledalo na istinata (1716) na Krastyo Peykich,” Balgarski filosofski pregled 3 (2013): 62-80. 50

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His pioneering role inevitably restricted the author’s ability to examine the philosophical and theological differences of doctrine in depth. And yet, despite expressing some doubts about the outcome of his linguistic experiment, Peykich did not renounce the idea of translating the interconfessional polemic into a language that the Slavic population in the Balkans could understand. As his letters demonstrate, he continued to promote this vision for the rest of his life, although he did not publish any other “Illyrian” book after the Zarcalo. As early as 1718, he declared his intention to translate his two books, the Zarcalo (1716) and the Mahometanus (1717), and publish them in Croatian.56 In 1730 he wrote that the Viennese government had commissioned him to produce translations of the Speculum veritatis and the Concordia; the publication of these translations would be subsidized by the Jesuit order.57 Regrettably, Peykich did not live long enough to execute this last ambitious project. The story of the Zarcalo istine does not, however, end with the edition of 1716. In fact, the book was fairly successful, and the extent of this success probably went far beyond its author’s expectations. By the middle of the eighteenth century, three handwritten transcripts of the work had been produced, one in Glagolitic and two in Latin script. Although they all remained in manuscript form, the very existence of these transcripts of the Zarcalo testified to the interest in, and the need for, works of this genre in the Southern Slavic vernacular.58 Finally, a printed version in Latin script, which went through many editions, made the text of the Zarcalo fairly popular, especially in Catholic Croatia. It appeared in 1745 in Venice under a new title (Ukazagnie Istine megiu Czarkvom Istoçnom i Zapadgniom) and without any reference to the name of the original author.59 This linguistic adaptation of the Zarcalo was prepared by and published under the name

56

APF, SOCG, vol. 615, cc. 174r-175r (Fridania [Ormož, Slovenia] 20 July 1718, signed by “Fra Lodovico olim Cristoforo Peichich”; the letter is not an autograph). However, the fact is that his Zarcalo did not need to be “translated” but only linguistically improved. 57 Peykich reports this information in his last two letters of 18 February and 31 March 1730 (APF, SOCG, vol. 668, cc. 191r-192v). The information is also confirmed in another source, a letter signed by Jerome, the archbishop of Edessa (APF, SC. Ungheria e Transilvania, vol. 5, c. 43r-v: Vienna, 11 [?] February 1730). 58 See the description of the three manuscripts in Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 140-144. 59 It is interesting to note that the true authorship of the Ukazagnie Istine was revealed only in 1888.

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of Stjepan Badriü (ca. 1687–1747),60 a Franciscan friar from Dalmatia.61 In 1802 in Venice, and then several more times until 1898, the Ukazagnie Istine was printed together with Toma Babiü’s (ca. 1680–1750) very popular work Cvit razlika mirisa duhovnoga (first published in 1726).62 The Cvit razlika was the second most widely read book in Croatia during the nineteenth century,63 which means that, through the editions including it under the title of Ukazagnie Istine, Peykich’s Zarcalo enjoyed wide distribution and extensive publicity.64 Or, as Sanja Vuliü puts it, Krastyo Peykich was the one to open the doors for scores of works of a similar genre in Croatian literature. Indeed, controversy with Orthodoxy represents the bulk of Croatian literary-theological production, particularly in the eighteenth century.65

Thus, the story of the “afterlife” of the Zarcalo in Croatia highlights the fact that Peykich’s attempt to translate Trinitarian terminology and to use it in his exposition of the Trinitarian doctrine is, despite its limitations, 60

On Stjepan Badriü and the editions of his books, see the recent publication Marko Karamatiü, ed., Franjevaþka književnost u Bosni u XVIII. stoljeüu (Zagreb: Matica Hrvatska, 2011), 38 and 58. 61 The contents of Badriü’s version were almost identical with those of the Zarcalo. For a description of the Ukazagnie Istine and its comparison with the Zarcalo, see Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 145-148. 62 On Toma Babiü, see Karamatiü, Franjevaþka književnost, 32; Alojz Jembrih, ed., Zbornik o Tomi Babiüu. Zbornik radova sa znanstvenog skupa “Fra Toma Babiü i njegovo vrijeme,” Skradin-Visovac, 26.-27. listopada 2001 (Šibenik: Gradska knjižnica “Juraj Šižgoriü”; Zagreb: Hrvatski studiji Sveuþilišta u Zagrebu, 2002). For a description of the different editions of the Cvit razlika mirisa duhovnoga, see Karamatiü, Franjevaþka književnost, 57, and Turþinoviü, Misionar Podunavlja, 148-150. 63 See Vuliü, “Krsto Pejkiü,” 36. 64 Unfortunately, we lack any information concerning the reaction of Greek Orthodox authors to Peykich’s Zarcalo. However, we know of a manuscript book written in “Serbian Slavonic” (the Serbian version of Old Church Slavonic) whose author claimed his intention was to refute that “version” of the history of the schism which was contained in the Zarcalo istine. This work was described in 1932 by Mita Kostiü (“Biobibliografski prilozi,” 84) who had found it in the Library of the Orthodox Patriarchate in Karlovci (Sremski Karlovci in Serbia). The title page was missing and, consequently, both the book’s title and its author’s name remained unidentified. Since the end of the Second World War, the collections of the Library of the Orthodox Patriarchate in Karlovci have been kept in Belgrade, but there seems to be no manuscript matching Kostiü’s description. At present, it is unclear what has happened to the only known refutation of Peykich’s Zarcalo. 65 Vuliü, “The Multilingualism,” 181.

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worthy of attention. Since the experimental language of the Zarcalo was not a spoken one, it did not communicate efficiently. However, it was efficient enough to act as an intermediary between Latin and the languages of the Balkan Slavic area. In this respect, Peykich’s “experiment” was successful—it showed that it was possible to narrate the schism between the Eastern and Western churches and to present and discuss the related theological problems adequately in the languages of the Southern Slavs, and it even paved the way for further developments.

CHAPTER TWELVE BELLARMIN-REZEPTION IM UMFELD DER PATRIARCHEN VON KONSTANTINOPEL IN DER ERSTEN HÄLFTE DES 17. JAHRHUNDERTS VRATISLAV ZERVAN

Robert Bellarmin (1542–1621) hatte trotz seiner Kenntnisse des Griechischen und guter Vertrautheit mit der griechischen Patristik und byzantinischen Theologie nie direkten Kontakt mit der griechischen Kirche im Osmanischen Reich.1 Dennoch wurde er von den griechischen Theologen 1

Für einen Überblick über das Leben und Werk Bellarmins siehe Gustavo Galeota, “Bellarmini, Roberto (1542–1621),” in Theologische Realenzyklopädie. Bd. V. Autokephalie–Biandrat, ed. Gerhard Krause und Gerhard Müller (Berlin–New York: Walter de Gruyter, 1980), 525-531. Von der neueren Literatur, die von Galeota nicht berücksichtigt wurde, siehe Romeo de Maio, ed., Bellarmino e la Controriforma: Atti del simposio internazionale di studi Sora 15-18. Ottobre, 1986 (Sora: Centro di Studi Sorani „Vincenzo Patriarca“, 1990); Thomas Dietrich, Die Theologie der Kirche bei Robert Bellarmin (1542–1621): systematische Voraussetzungen des Kontroverstheologen (Paderborn: Bonifatius, 1999); Aimé Richardt, Saint Robert Bellarmin, 1542–1621: le défenseur de la foi (Paris: F.-X. de Guibert, 2004); Frano Motta, Bellarmino. Una Teologia politica della Controriforma (Brescia: Morcelliana, 2005); Stefania Tutino, Empire oft Souls. Robert Bellarmine and the Christian Commonwealth (Oxford–New York: Oxford University Press, 2010). Zu Bellarmins Kenntnis des Griechischen, das er selbst erlernt hat: Joh. Jos. Ign. von Döllinger, Fr. Heinrich Reusch, eds., Selbstbiographie des Cardinals Bellarmin lateinisch und deutsch mit geschichtlichen Erläuterungen (Bonn: P. Neusser, 1887), 29-30: „In Collegio Montis Vicii invenit expositum catalogum lectionum illius anni, et sibi assignatum Demosthenem Graecis et Marcum Tullium et alia quaedam; et quoniam in Graecis vix ipse aliquid noverat praeter alphabetum, dixit auditoribus se velle a fundamentis instruere ac primum eos docere Grammaticam, deinde Demosthenem; itaque maximo suo labore quotidie discebat, quod alios do-

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des 16./17. Jahrhunderts gelesen und kommentiert.2 Der Grund dafür liegt in Bellarmins Hauptwerk, das in der Regel verkürzt Kontroversen genannt wird.3 Bellarmin hat nämlich an mehreren Stellen die Griechen als Häretiker bezeichnet.4 So sagt er z.B. über ihre Lehre vom Fegefeuer, dass zumindest der Verdacht einer Ketzerei auf sie fallen kann.5 Gleich nachdem die Kontroversen veröffentlicht worden waren, beauftragten empörte Griechen in Italien den Metropoliten von Philadelphia, Gabriel Severos (vor 1540–1616), der sich in Venedig aufhielt, mit der Aufgabe, die suspekten ceret; tantum tamen laborando prefecit, ut brevi Isocratem explicare posset et deinde alios libros.“ Zu seiner Bibliothek, in der auch griechische Väter und byzantinische Werke vorhanden waren, näher Giorgio Hofmann S. I., Il beato Bellarmino e gli Orientali, Orientalia Christiana vol. VIII.–6, Num. 33 (Roma: Pont. Institutum Orientalium Studiorum, 1927), 264-266. Bellarmin war mit den in Rom ansässigen unierten Christen befreundet und sein engster Mitarbeiter und Ratgeber war der griechische Jesuit Andreas Eudaemon-Joannes (1566–1625) – Hofmann, Il beato Bellarmino, 266–272. Für das orthodoxe griechische Schriftum sind vor allem die Kontroversen (siehe Anm. 3) und der Große Katechismus aus dem Jahr 1598 (DICHIARATIONE PIU||COPIOSA DELLA||DOTTRINA||CHRISTIANA|| …IN ROMA nella Stamperia della Camera Apost. 1627) wichtig. Die Kontroversen bestehen aus drei Bänden. Der erste Band handelt von der Ekklesiologie, während der zweite und dritte Band sich mit der Sakramentenlehre und der Rechtfertigungslehre beschäftigt. Die drei Teile des Werkes entsprechen den Sätzen des Glaubensbekenntnisses, die Bellarmin gegen die Reformatoren verteidigt. Im Großen Katechismus erklärt er knapp die Position der römischen nachtridentischen Hoftheologie zu Glaube, Gebet, Sakramenten und Moral. Er ergänzt seine Erläuterungen wie in den Kontroversen mit Hinweisen auf Stellen der Bibel, der Kirchenväter und der Konzilien. 2 Über die Rezeption Bellarmins bei den Orthodoxen zusammenfassend Gerhard Podskalsky, Griechische Theologie in der Zeit der Türkenherrschaft (1453–1821). Die Orthodoxie im Spannungsfeld der nachreformatorischen Konfessionen des Westens (München: Beck, 1988), 126-127. 3 DISPUTATIONVM||ROBERTI BEL-||LARMINI POLI-||TIANI, SOCIETA-||TIS IESV,||DE CONTROVERSIIS||CHRISTIANAE FIDEI,|| ADVERSVS HVIVS TEMPO-||RIS HAERETICOS.||Tomus primus–Tomus tertius.||... Ingolstadii/Ingolstadt, Ex officina Typographica Davidis Sartorii M.D.LXXXVI–M.D. LXXXXIII. Ich benutze die Edition Roberti Cardinalis Bellarmini Opera Omnia. Tomus Primus– Tomus Quartus. Disputationum Roberti Bellarmini Politiani S. J. S. R. E. Cardinalis De Controversiis Christianae fidei adversus hujus temporis haereticos (Neapoli/ Napoli: Apud Josephum Giuliano,1856–1859). 4 Philipp Meyer, Die theologische Litteratur der griechischen Kirche im sechzehnten Jahrhundert. Mit einer allgemeinen Einleitung (Leipzig: Dieterich’sche Verlags-Buchhandlung, 1899), 84. 5 Roberti Cardinalis Bellarmini Opera Omnia II, 354: “Credibile est Graecos de hac haeresi saltem suspectos esse.”

Bellarmin-Rezeption im Umfeld der Patriarchen von Konstantinopel

163

Stellen in Bellarmins Werk zu untersuchen und die Frage, ob er das Recht hätte, sie Häretiker zu nennen, zu beantworten.6 Severos ist nicht der einzige postbyzantinische Theologe, der sich gegen Äußerungen Bellarmins gestellt hat. Denn der Patriarch von Alexandria, Meletios Pegas (1549/50–1601),7 widerlegt eine Meinung, die auch Bellarmin in seinem Werk erwähnt,8 dass die Herrschaft der Türken eine Strafe für den Abfall der orthodoxen Kirche sei.9 6

Ich habe die gedruckte Ausgabe īǹǺȇǿǾȁ ȉȅȊ ȈǼǺǼȇȅȊ||ȉȅȊ ǼȀ ȂȅȃȅȂǺǹȈǿǹȈ ȉǹȆǼǿȃȅȊ||ȝȘIJȡȠʌȠȜ઀IJȠȣ ĭȚȜĮįİȜij઀ĮȢ, ਯțșİıȚȢ țĮIJ੹ IJ૵Ȟ ਕȝĮș૵Ȣ Ȝİ-||ȖંȞIJȦȞ țĮ੿ ʌĮȡĮȞંȝȦȢ įȚįĮıțંȞIJȦȞ, ੖IJȚ ਲȝİ૙Ȣ Ƞੂ IJોȢ ਝȞĮIJȠȜȚțોȢ ਫțțȜȘ||ı઀ĮȢ ȖȞ੾ıȠȚ țĮ੿ ੑȡșંįȠȟȠȚ ʌĮ૙įİȢ ਥıȝ੻Ȟ ıȤȚıȝ੺IJȚțȠȚ ʌĮȡ੹|| IJોȢ ਖȖ઀ĮȢ țĮ੿ țĮșંȜȠȣ ਥțțȜȘı઀ĮȢ. ਫȞ ȀȦȞıIJĮȞIJȚȞȠȣʌંȜİȚ 1628 benutzt. Vollständig ist das Werk nur in sechs Athos-Handschriften, einer Patmos-Handschrift und einer Handschrift aus der patriarchalen Bibliothek aus Jerusalem überliefert, die ǻȘȝ੾IJȡȚȠȢ ĭ઄țĮȢ, ȅ īĮȕȡȚ‫ޤ‬Ȝ Ȉİȕ‫ޤ‬ȡȠȢ țĮȚ Ș ıIJ‫ޠ‬ıȘ IJȠȣ ıIJĮ ʌȞİȣȝĮIJȚț‫ ޠ‬ʌȡȠȕȜ‫ޤ‬ȝĮIJĮ IJȘȢ İʌȠȤ‫ޤ‬Ȣ IJȠȣ (ǻȚįĮțIJȠȡȚț੾ įȚĮIJȡȚȕ੾: ǼșȞȚțં țĮȚ ȀĮʌȠįȚıIJȡȚĮțં ȆĮȞİʌȚıIJ੾ȝȚȠ ǹșȘȞઆȞ, 2008), 68-69 aufzählt. Severos bespricht auf den Seiten 1 und 2 die Entstehungsgeschichte seines Werkes: „…țĮ੿ ਙȜȜȠȚ ȝ੻Ȟ, ȝ઼Ȣ Ȝ੼ȖȠȣıȚ ıȤȚıȝ੺IJȚțȠȚȢ· ਙȜȜȠȚ į੻ ʌ੺ȜȚȞ ȝ઼Ȣ țĮȜȠ૨ıȚȞ ĮੂȡİIJȚțȠ઄Ȣ…੒ȝȠ઀ȦȢ į੻ ʌ੺ȜȚȞ țĮ઀ IJȚȢ ਙȜȜȠȢ ȀĮȡįȚȞ੺ȜȚȠȢ țĮȜȠ઄ȝİȞȠȢ ȂʌİȜĮȡȝ૙ȞȠȢ, İੁȢ IJઁȞ Į. IJંȝȠȞ IJોȢ ʌȡĮȖȝĮIJİ઀ĮȢ, İੁȢ ij઄Ȝ. 415 țĮ੿ İੁȢ 1497. Ȗȡ੺ijİȚ ʌ૵Ȣ į੻Ȟ ਩ȤȠȝİȞ ʌĮȞIJİȜ૵Ȣ ਫțțȜȘı઀ĮȞ, țĮ੿ ʌ૵Ȣ İ੅ȝĮșİȞ ĮੂȡİIJȚțȠ઀. țĮ઀ IJȚȞİȢ ਙȜȜȠȚ ȝȚı੺įİȜijȠȚ țĮ੿ țĮțȠʌȠȚȠ੿, į੻Ȟ ʌĮ઄ȠȣıȚ ȕȜĮıijȘȝȠ૨ȞIJİȢ țĮ੿ Ȗȡ੺ijȠȞIJİȢ țĮIJ੹ IJોȢ ਕȜȘșİ઀ĮȢ. įȚ੹ IJĮ઄IJĮȢ ȜȠȚʌઁȞ IJ੹Ȣ ĮੁIJ઀ĮȢ, ਷ȜșȠȞ ʌȡઁȢ ਲȝ઼Ȣ IJȠઃȢ İ੝IJİȜİ૙Ȣ Ƞੂ ਲȝ੼IJİȡȠȚ ਕįİȜijȠ੿, Ƞੂ IJ૶ Ȗ੼ȞİȚ ਰȜȜȘȞİȢ, țĮ੿ IJૌ ʌ઀ıIJİȚ ੑȡșંįȠȟȠȚ. ȝ੺ȜȚıIJĮ įૃ ੖ıȠȚ țĮIJȠȚțȠ૨ȞIJȚ IJ੹ ȝ੼ȡȘ IJĮ૨IJĮ IJોȢ ੉IJĮȜ઀ĮȢ, ȗȘIJȠ૨ȞIJİȢ ʌĮȡૃ ਲȝ૵Ȟ ȝĮșİ૙Ȟ, İੁ įȚțĮ઀ȦȢ ʌĮȡૃ ਥțİ઀ȞȦȞ ਥȖțĮȜȠ઄ȝİșĮ…“ Vergleiche auch Meyer, Die theologische Litteratur, 78-85 und ĭ઄țĮȢ, ȅ īĮȕȡȚ‫ޤ‬Ȝ Ȉİȕ‫ޤ‬ȡȠȢ, 165-166. 7 Zur Person von Meletios Pegas grundlegend ɂɜɚɧ ɂɝɧɚɬɶɟɜɢɱ Ɇɚɥɵɲɟɜɫɤɢɣ, Ⱥɥɟɤɫɚɧɞɪɢɣɫɤɢɣ ɩɚɬɪɢɚɪɯɴ Ɇɟɥɟɬɿɣ ɉɢɝɚɫɴ ɢ ɟɝɨ ɭɱɚɫɬɿɟ ɜɴ ɞ‫״‬ɥɚɯɴ ɪɭɫɫɤɨɣ ɰɟɪɤɜɢ, Ɍɨɦɴ ɩɟɪɜɵɣ (Ʉɢɟɜɴ: Ɍɢɩɨɝɪɚɮɿɹ Ʉɢɟɜɨɩɟɱɟɪɫɤɨɣ Ʌɚɜɪɵ 1872); ǺĮıȚȜȚț੾ ȉȗઆȖĮ, ȂİȜ‫ޢ‬IJȚȠȢ ȆȘȖ‫ޠ‬Ȣ (1550–1601) ȆĮIJȡȚ‫ޠ‬ȡȤȘȢ ǹȜİȟĮȞįȡİަĮȢ: ȕަȠȢ – įȡ‫ޠ‬ıȘ – İȡȖȠȖȡĮijަĮ (ǻȚįĮțIJȠȡȚț੾ įȚĮIJȡȚȕ੾: ǼșȞȚțં țĮȚ ȀĮʌȠįȚıIJȡȚĮțં ȆĮȞİʌȚıIJ੾ȝȚȠ ǹșȘȞઆȞ, 2009). 8 Roberti Cardinalis Bellarmini Opera Omnia, I, 423. 9 ȉȠ૨ ȝĮțĮȡȚȦIJ੺IJȠȣ Ȇ੺ʌʌĮ IJોȢ ȝİȖ੺ȜȘȢ ਝȜİȟĮȞįȡİ઀ĮȢ Ȁȣȡ઀Ƞȣ ȂİȜİIJ઀Ƞȣ ȜંȖȠȢ, ʌİȡ੿|| IJȠ૨ IJ઀Ȣ ਥıIJȚȞ ਲ ਕȜȘș੽Ȣ țĮșȠȜȚț੽ ਥțțȜȘı઀Į țĮ੿ ʌંȚĮ ਥıIJ੿Ȟ ਲ ȖȞȘı઀Į țĮ੿ ਕȜȘș੽Ȣ țİijĮȜ੽ ĮȣIJોȢ,|| ȀĮ੿ țĮIJ੹ IJોȢ ਕȡȤોȢ IJȠ૨ Ȇ੺ʌʌĮ IJોȢ ૮આȝȘȢ, ਥțijȦȞȘșİ੿Ȣ ʌȡઁȢ IJઁȞ ਖȖȚઆIJĮIJȠȞ Ȉ઀Ȝ-||ȕİıIJȡȠȞ, IJઁȞ ʌȡȠț੺IJȠȤȠȞ țĮ੿ ī੼ȡȠȞIJĮ Į੝IJȠ૨ in ȉȅȂȅȈ ȋǹȇǹȈ|| Ǽȃ ȍ ȆǼȇǿǼȋȅȃȉǹǿ|| ǹੂ ਥʌȚıIJȠȜĮ੿ ĭȦIJȓȠȣ IJȠ૨ ਖȖȚȦIJȐIJȠȣ ȆĮIJȡȚȐȡȤȠȣ ȀȦȞıIJĮȞIJȚȞȠȣʌȩȜİȦȢ,|| ਺ ਖȖȓĮ țĮ੿ ȅੁțȠȣȝİȞȚț੽ ੑȖįȩȘ ȈȪȞȠįȠȢ,|| ȈȘȝİȚȫıİȚȢ IJȚȞ੻Ȣ İੁȢ IJĮȪIJȘȞ IJ੽Ȟ ਖȖȓĮȞ ȈȪȞȠįȠȞ.|| ȉ੹ ਕȞIJȚ૦૧ȘIJȚț੹ țĮIJ੹ IJોȢ ਖȡȤȒȢ IJȠ૨ ȆȐʌʌĮ IJોȢ ૮ȫȝȘȢ, ȃȚțȠȜȐȠȣ|| ੉ĮIJȡȠijȚȜȠıȩijȠȣ,|| ȁȩȖȠȢ ȂİȜİIJȓȠȣ ਝȜİȟĮȞįȡİȓĮȢ țĮIJ੹ IJોȢ ਕȡȤોȢ IJȠ૨ ȆȐʌʌĮ,|| ǻȚȐȜȠȖȠȢ ੊İȡȠȝȞȒȝȠȞȠȢ ȝȠȞĮȤȠ૨ ȝİIJȐ IJȚȞȠȢ ਦIJȑȡȠȣ ȝȠȞĮȤȠ૨ țĮIJ੹ ȁĮIJȓȞȦȞ,|| ȉȣʌȦșİ੿Ȣ ਥȞ IJૌ ਥʌȚıțȠʌૌ ૮ȘȝȞȓțȠȣ… ǻȚ੹ ਥȟȩįȠȣ țĮ੿ ਥʌȚȝİȜİȓĮȢ

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Eine andere Einstellung zu Bellarmins Werken wird durch Maximios Margounios (1549–1602) vertreten. Dieser Hauptkontrahent des Gabriel Severos in Sachen der Union besaß eine reiche Bibliothek mit einer großen Anzahl von lateinischen Werken, dennoch fehlt Bellarmins Name in seinem Bibliothekskatalog.10 Bellarmins Einfluss ist in seinem Werk trotzdem auffällig, wenn auch nur in einem posthum in Venedig 1602 erschienenen Druck Brevis tractatus de consiliis atque praeceptis evangelicis.11 Es wird deutlich, dass Margounios hier vergleichbar mit Bellarmin12 die von Luther in De votis monachorum bestrittene Unterscheidung von praecepta und consilia mit zahlreichen Väter- und Scholastik-Zitaten widerlegt. Gerhard Podskalsky sieht eine Parallele zu diesem Werk in einer noch immer unedierten Schrift ȁިȖȠȢ ʌȡާȢ IJȠީȢ Ȝ‫ޢ‬ȖȠȞIJĮȢ ‫ݏ‬Ȟ IJĮ߿Ȣ ‫ݨ‬İȡĮ߿Ȣ ȖȡĮijĮ߿Ȣ, die im Moskauer Staatlichen Historischen Museum aufbewahrt ist.13

IJȠ૨ ȝĮțĮȡȚȦIJȐIJȠȣ țĮ੿ ਖȖȚȦIJȐIJȠȣ ȆĮIJȡȚȐȡȤȠȣ|| ੊İȡȠıȠȜȪȝȦȞ țĮ੿ ʌȐıȘȢ ȆĮȜĮȚıIJȓȞȘȢ țȣȡȓȠȣ țȣȡȓȠȣ ǻȠıȚșȑȠȣ,|| ȆĮȡȐ IJȠ૨ șİȠijȚȜİıIJȐIJȠȣ țĮȚ ȜȠȖȚȦIJȐIJȠȣ ਥʌȚıțȩʌȠȣ ૮ȘȝȞȓțȠȣ țȣȡȓȠȣ|| ਝȞșȓȝȠȣ IJȠ૨ ਥȟ ੉ȕȘȡȓĮȢ. ਫȞ ਩IJİȚ ࢞Įȥİ࢝ țĮIJ੹ ȝોȞĮ ȈİʌIJ੼ȝȕȡȠȣ, 602: „İੁ į੻ IJȠ੝ȞĮȞIJ઀ȠȞ ਚʌĮȞ ijĮȡĮȦȞȚȗȠ઄ıĮȚȢ ਕșİ઀ĮȚȢ Ƞੂ țĮș’ ਲȝ઼Ȣ ਥțțȜȘı઀ĮȞ IJȣȡĮȞȞȠ૨ȞIJİȢ ȝİȝ૊ȞĮıȚȞ, ਥʌȚȖȞઆIJȦıĮȞ IJ੽Ȟ ਦĮȣIJ૵Ȟ İ੝੾șİȚĮȞ, ੆ȞĮ ȝ੽ IJ੹Ȣ ȕȜĮıij੾ȝȠȣȢ İ੅ʌȦ ijȦȞ੹Ȣ. IJ੹Ȣ țȠıȝȚț੹Ȣ ȝ੻Ȟ Ȗ੹ȡ ਕȡȤ੹Ȣ įȚ੹ IJ੹Ȣ ਖȝĮȡIJ઀ĮȢ ਲȝ૵Ȟ ਱ȜĮIJIJઆȝİșĮ (Į੤IJĮȚ į੻ ਷ıĮȞ Įੂ ૧ȦȝĮïțĮ੿, İ੅ IJȚȢ ȠੁțİȚંIJİȡȠȞ ʌİȡȚİȡȖ੺ıĮȚIJȠ, ȤઆȡĮȞ ȝંȞȠȞ ਕȝİ઀ȥĮıĮȚ, ૮આȝȘȢ įȘȜȠȞંIJȚ ਕȞIJĮȜȜĮȟ੺ȝİȞĮȚ ǺȣȗĮȞIJ઀૳, țĮ੿ IJંIJİ ȝ੺ȜȚıIJĮ ਥțțȜ઀ȞĮıĮȚ, ੖IJİ IJ੹ IJોȢ ਥțțȜȘı઀ĮȢ IJોȢ ਕȞĮIJȠȜȚțોȢ ਥțțȜ઀ȞĮıĮȚ, ੖IJİ IJ੹ IJોȢ ਥțțȜȘı઀ĮȢ IJોȢ ਕȞĮIJȠȜȚțોȢ ਩įȠȟĮȞ ਕʌȠįİį੼ȤșĮȚ IJોȢ ૧ȦȝĮïțોȢ IJȠ૨ Ȇ੺ʌʌĮ ȝȠȞĮȡȤ઀ĮȢ ૧Ƞʌ੾Ȟ IJȚȞĮ.“ 10 Deno J. Geanakoplos, Byzantine East and Latin West: Two Worlds of Christendom in Middle Ages and Renaissance. Studies in Ecclesiastical and Cultural History (New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1966), 165-193. 11 Ȃǹȋ૞ȂȅȊ ǼȆǿȈȀ૸-||ȆȅȊ ȀȊĬૐȇȍȃ. ||Ȉ઄ȞIJȠȝȠȢ ʌİȡ੿ ʌȡȠıIJĮȖȝ੺IJȦȞ, țĮ੿ ȕȠȣȜ૵Ȟ|| ʌȡĮȖȝĮIJİ઀Į, ਥȞ ਸ IJોȢ ੂİȡ઼Ȣ ȖȡĮijોȢ, IJોȢ IJİ ʌĮȜĮȚ઼Ȣ|| țĮ੿ IJોȢ Ȟ੼ĮȢ, țĮ੿ IJ૵Ȟ ਖȖ઀ȦȞ įȚįĮıț੺ȜȦȞ, ਬȜȜ੾ȞȦȞ IJ੻|| țĮ੿ ȁĮIJ઀ȞȦȞ ȝĮȡIJȣȡ઀ĮȚȢ įİ઀țȞȣIJĮȚ, IJĮ૨IJĮ ਕʌ’ ਕȜȜ੾-||ȜȦȞ įȚİıIJ੺ȜșĮȚ. ʌȡઁȢ į੻ țĮ੿ ੖IJȚ Įੂ ȕȠȣȜĮ੿ Ƞ੝Ȥ ਖ-||ʌȜ૵Ȣ İੁıȚȞ ਕȞĮȖțĮ૙ĮȚ ʌȡઁȢ ıȦIJȘȡ઀ĮȞ, ਸȢ įȚ੹ IJોȢ|| IJ૵Ȟ ʌȡȠıIJĮȖȝ੺IJȦȞ IJȘȡ੾ıİȦȢ ਲ țIJોıȚȢ Ȗ઀ȖȞİIJĮȚ, İੁ țĮ੿|| ʌȡઁȢ IJઁ ૧઼ંȞ IJİ țĮ੿ ʌȜȘȡ੼ıIJİȡȠȞ, țĮ੿ ਥȞįȠȟંIJİȡȠȞ IJĮ઄-||IJȘȢ ਥʌȚIJȣȤİ૙Ȟ, Į੤IJĮȚ ıȣȞIJİȜȠ૨ıȚ. ȉઁ ʌĮȡઁȞ ȕȚȕȜ઀įȚȠȞ IJİIJ઄ʌȦIJĮȚ ਫȞİIJ઀ૉıȚȞ ʌĮȡ੹|| ਝȞIJȦȞ઀૳ IJ૶ ȆȚȞ੼ȜȜ૳ ਫʌȚȝİȜİ઀Į IJ੻ țĮ੿ įȚȠȡ-||șઆıİȚ ȃİȠij઄IJȠȣ ȂȠȞĮȤȠ૨ ૮ȠįȚȞȠ૨ IJȠ૨ Ȁȣʌȡ઀Ƞȣ.|| ȂĮșȘIJȠ૨ IJȠ૨ ĬİȠijȚȜİıIJ੺IJȠȣ țĮ੿ ıȠijȦ-||IJ੺IJȠȣ ਫʌȚıțંʌȠȣ Ȁȣș੾ȡȦȞ Ȁȣȡ઀Ƞȣ|| ȂĮȤ઀ȝȠȣ IJȠ૨ ȂĮȡȖȠȣȞ઀Ƞȣ.|| Į Ȥ ȕ࢝. ੉ȠȣȞ઀Ȧ ș࢝. 12 Roberti Cardinalis Bellarmini Opera Omnia II, 217 und f. 13 Podskalsky, Griechische Theologie, 148 Anm. 611; Ⱥɪɯɢɦɚɧɞɪɢɬɴ ȼɥɚɞɢɦɢɪɴ, ɋɢɫɬɟɦɚɬɢɱɟɫɤɨɟ ɨɩɢɫɚɧɢɟ ɪɭɤɨɩɢɫɟɣ Ɇɨɫɤɨɜɫɤɨɣ ɫɢɧɨɞɚɥɶɧɨɣ (ɩɚɬɪɢɚɪɲɟɣ) ɛɢɛɥɢɨɬɟɤɢ, ɑɚɫɬɶ ɩɟɪɜɚɹ, ɪɭɤɨɩɢɫɢ ɝɪɟɱɟɫɤɢɹ (Ɇɨɫɤɜɚ, 1894), 310 (cod. Nr. 238 /CCCLXIV/, fol. 140-145v).

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Ein Zögling des Meletios Pegas und ein Schüler des Maximios Margounios war der künftige Patriarch von Alexandria und Konstantinopel, Kyrillos Lukaris (1570/72–1638).14 Pegas machte ihn zum Protosynkellos und schickte ihn als seinen Exarchen nach Polen, wo er der Union der Orthodoxen mit Rom entgegenwirken sollte. In einem Bericht des Piotr Skargas (1536–1612) wird beschrieben, wie der lateinische Erzbischof von Lemberg Jan Dymitr Solikowski (1539–1603) Skarga mehrere Informationen über Lukaris mitgeteilt hat. Eine davon sagt über Lukaris, dass er auf einem Jahrmarkt in Lemberg sehr viele lateinische Bücher erworben hat, darunter, was besonders von Solikowski hervorgehoben wurde, auch Bellarmins Kontroversen.15 Die Glaubwürdigkeit dieses Berichts wird direkt von Lukaris bestätigt. In zwei Rohfassungen seiner Predigten aus dem Jahr 1599 und 1601 benutzt er Bellarmins Kontroversen, um seine Ausführungen über den freien Willen zu erläutern.16 14 Eine Bibliographie zu Person und Werk des Lukaris ist zu finden bei Gunar Hering, “Lukaris, Konstantinos Kyrillos I., Patriarch der orthodoxen Kirche von Alexandria, ökumenischer Patriarch von Konstantinopel,” in Biographisch-Bibliographisches Kirchenlexikon, Band V, ed. Friedrich Wilhelm Bautz, Traugott Bautz (Herzberg: T. Bautz, 1993), 404-408 und Klaus-Peter Todt, “Kyrillos Lukaris,” in La théologie byzantine et sa tradition II (XIIIe-XIXe s.), ed. Carmelo Giuseppe Conticello und Vassa Conticello (Turnhout : Brepols, 2002), 617-651. Aus der neuen Literatur vor allem Wiliam B. Patterson, “Cyril Lukaris, George Abbot, James VI and I, and the beginning of Orthodox-Anglican relations,” in Anglicanism and Orthodoxy 300 after the “Greek College” in Oxford, ed. Peter M. Doll (Oxford: Peter Lang, 2006), 39-55; Ovidiu Victor Olar, “Paroles de Pierre. Kyrillos Loukaris et les débats religieux du XVIIe siècle,” Archaeus 14 (2010): 165-196; Vasileios Tsakiris, “The Ecclesiarum Belgicarum Confessio and the Attempted Calvinisation of the Orthodox Church under Cyril Loukaris,” The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 63, No. 3 (2012): 475-487. In Bologna fand von 11–12. April 2013 eine internationale Konferenz mit dem Titel Trame controluce il patriarca „protestante“ Cirillo Loukaris statt. 15 NA THRENY Y LAMENT||Theophilá Orthologá||Do RuĞi GrĊckiego Na-||boĨeĔstwá,||PRZESTROGA||X. PIOTRA SKARGI Societatis IESU. W Krakowie, w Drukárni Andrzeiá Piotrkowczyká Krolá I. M. Typográphá. 1610: „y odiezdĪáiac nákupil wiele kĞiag LáƛiĔskich ná iármárku Lwowskim á zwáassczá pisania Belárminá nássego przeƛiv heretykom iáko mi tenĪeArcybiskup powiádaá.” 16 Keetje Rozemond, ed., Cyrille Lucar Sermons 1598–1602 (Leiden : E. J. Brill, 1974), 88: „..ȕȠȞ࢝ ੆ȞĮ ijĮȞો ਲ ਕȖĮșંIJȘȢ, quod non solum voluit nobis gloriam communicare, sed digniori modo. Ex Bellarmino…“; 112: „De primo, id est ʌİȡ੿ șİȜ੾ıİȦȢ, discendum quod inter alia quae habuit dona homo à summo suo creatore et liberum arbitrium magnum fuit, quod dederat ei quia illum summo modo volebat glorificare (ex Bellarmino).“ (vgl. Roberti Cardinalis Bellarmini Opera Omnia, IV, pars 1, 355). Über den Einfluss des abendländischen Schrifttums auf seine

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Nach Trident und Brest richtete sich die Aufmerksamkeit der Kurie auch auf die Griechisch sprechenden Christen im Osmanischen Reich. Im Osten waren zwei Gruppen, die von der Kurie unterstützt worden sind, tätig. Die erste Gruppe wollte das Volk einfach zum lateinischen Dogma bewegen. Eine wichtige Maßnahme war die Missionstätigkeit der Orden, besonders der Jesuiten. Das bezeugt eine Streitschrift in Dialogform des Kyrillos Lukaris, die er im Jahr 1616, als er noch Patriarch von Alexandria war, verfasste. Lukaris kritisiert hauptsächlich das Bestreben der Jesuiten, durch das Angebot kostenloser Bildungseinrichtungen die Griechen im Osmanischen Reich mit Hilfe von unionsfreundlichen Klerikern zu unterwandern.17 Die zweite Partei scharte sich um die Kirchenwürdenträger, die der Union mit Rom offen gegenüberstanden oder sogar zu den Unierten konvertierten, wozu Papst Gregor XV. (1554–1623) die Congregatio de Propaganda Fide auch mit dem Ziel einer unionsorientierten Annäherung an die Griechen im Jahr 1622 gründete.18 Als sehr wirksam erwies sich auch der Beschluss der Kongregation im Jahr 1622, eine eigene Druckerei zu errichten, die speziell für eine orthodoxe Leserschaft bestimmt war. Rom und seine Anhänger verteilten die Bücher kostenlos an die griechischen

Predigten (besonders die Theologen und Humanisten des Spätmittelalters und des 16. Jahrhunderts), ohne aber Bellarmin zu nennen, ausführlich Georg Hofmann, S.J., “Patriarch Kyrillos Lukaris. Einfluss abendländischer Schriften auf seine Predigten,” Orientalia Christiana Periodica 7 (1941): 250-265. 17 “ȀȊȇǿȁȁȅȊ ȁȅȊȀǹȇǼȍȈ ʌ੺ʌĮ țĮ੿ ʌĮIJȡ઀ĮȡȤȠȣ ਝȜİȟĮȞįȡİ઀ĮȢ ǻ઀ĮȜȠȖȠȢ ȕȡĮȤ઄Ȣ, ਥȞ મ țĮIJĮȜİʌIJ૵Ȣ șİȦȡİ૙IJĮȚ ੒ ț઀ȞįȣȞȠȢ ੒ʌȠȣ ȝ੼ȜȜİȚ Ȟ੹ ʌȡȠȟİȞ੾ıૉ ʌȠȜઃ țĮțઁȞ țĮ੿ ȗȘȝ઀ĮȞ, ʌȡȠȕĮ઀ȞȠȞIJȠȢ IJȠ૨ țĮȚȡȠ૨, İੁȢ IJ੽Ȟ ਫțțȘı઀ĮȞ IJોȢ ȀȦȞıIJĮȞIJȚȞȠȣʌંȜİȦȢ įȚ੹ IJોȢ ʌĮȡȠȣı઀ĮȢ IJ૵Ȟ īİȗȠȣȧIJ૵Ȟ İੁȢ IJઁȞ īĮȜĮIJ઼, țĮ੿ ıț੼ȥȚȢ ʌ૵Ȣ ਵșİȜİȞ İੇıIJĮȚ įȣȞĮIJઁȞ ੒ IJȠȚȠ૨IJȠȢ ț઀ȞįȣȞȠȢ Ȟ੹ țĮIJĮȜȣșૌ. ȉ੹ IJȠ૨ įȚĮȜંȖȠȣ ʌȡંıȦʌĮ. ǽȘȜȦIJ੽Ȣ țĮ੿ ĭȚȜĮȜ੾șȘȢ,” in ݃Ȟ‫ޠ‬ȜİțIJĮ ‫ݨ‬İȡȠıȣȜȚȝȚIJȚț߱Ȣ ıIJĮȤȣȠȜȠȖަĮȢ. ȉȠȝȠȢ ǹ࢝, ed. ǹșĮȞ੺ıȚȠȢ ȆĮʌĮįંʌȠȣȜȠȢ-ȀİȡĮȝİ઄Ȣ (ਫȞ ȆİIJȡȠȣʌંȜİȚ: ਫț IJȠ૨ IJȣʌȠȖȡĮijİ઀Ƞȣ Ǻ. ȀȚȡıȕ੺Ƞȣȝ, 1891), 227: „ ੜIJĮȞ ȝ઼Ȣ ੒ȝȚȜ૵ıȚ ȝ੻ ȖȜȣț੹ ȜંȖȚĮ, țĮ੿ ਥțİ૙ țȡ઄ʌIJȠȣıȚ IJઁ ijĮȡȝ੺țȚ· ੖IJĮȞ ȝ઼Ȣ IJȚȝ૵ıȚ, IJંIJİ ȝ઼Ȣ ȖİȜ૵ıȚ İੁȢ IJઁȞ ਦĮȣIJંȞ IJȦȢ· ੖IJĮȞ ȝ઼Ȣ įȚį੺ıțȠȣıȚ, IJંIJİ ȝ઼Ȣ ʌȡĮȖȝĮIJİ઄ȠȞIJĮȚ.” 18 Charles E. Frazee, Catholics and Sultan. The Church and the Ottoman Empire 1453–1923 (London: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 88 u. f.; Willi Henkel, “Il ruolo della congregazione di Propaganda Fide,” in Il cammino dell’evangelizzazione. Problemi storiografici, ed. Giacomo Martina und Ugo Dovere (Bologna: Il mulino, 2001), 295-312; Giovanni Pizzorusso, “Agli antipodi di Babele. Propaganda Fide tra imagine cosmopolita e orizzonti romani (XVII–XIX secolo),” Roma, la città del papa. Vita civile e religiosa dal giubile di Bonifacio VIII al giubileo di Papa Wojtyla, ed. Luigi Fiorani und Adriano Prosperi (Turin: Einaudi, 2000), 476-518.

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Christen mit dem Ziel, ihnen die katholische Lehre näher zu bringen.19 Eine wichtige Rolle spielte dabei die Übersetzung des Großen Katechismus Bellarmins.20 Schon im Jahr 1602 kam die Übersetzung des Kleinen Katechismus Bellarmins von Iohannes Matthaios Karyophylles (1566– 1633) heraus, welche nur einen unerheblichen Einfluss auf die Griechen im Osmanischen Reich ausübte.21 1616 wurde im Rom Bellarmins Großer Katechismus von dem Athener Leonardos Philaras (1595–1673) in die griechische Volkssprache übertragen.22 Die Übersetzung von Philaras berücksichtigt die Bedürfnisse der griechischen Leser im Osmanischen Reich und versucht, den ursprünglichen Text von Bellarmin so zu edieren, dass der Text auch der griechischen Tradition entspricht. Die Übersetzung von Philaras wurde von den Verfechtern der Union hoch geschätzt.23 Zu der Gruppe der Verfechter der Union gehörte auch Neophytos Rhodinos (1576/77–1659), ein römischer Konvertit, der einige Zeit im Auftrag der Kongregation missionierte. Die Propagandakongregation hat ihn sogar

19

Willi Henkel, Die Druckerei der Propaganda Fide. Eine Dokumentation (München: Schöningh, 1977); Zacharias N. Tsirplanis, “I libri greci pubblicati dalla Sacra Congregatio de Propaganda Fide (XVII sec.),” Balkan Studies 15 (1974): 204-224. 20 Zu den Übersetzungen siehe Renata Lavagnini, “Le traduzioni neogreche delle opere del cardinale Bellarmino,” in Testi letterari italiani tradotti in greco (dal ’500 ad oggi), ed. Mario Vitti (Soveria Mannelli: Rubbettino, 1994), 127-132; zur Rolle der Katechismen in der Missionspolitik Niki Papaïlaki-Gamelon, “Livres de catéchismes et pratiques scolaires des missionnaires français en Grèce au XVIIe siècle,” in Pédagogies missionnaires. Traduire. Transmettre. Transculturer, ed. Hugues Didier und Madalena Larcher (Paris : Karthala, 2012), 137-146. 21 Émile Legrand, Bibliographie Hellénique ou description raisonnée des ouvrages publiés par des Grecs au dix-septième siècle. Tome Troisieme (Paris : Alphonse Picard et Fils, 1895), 40-42 (Nr. 666); Mario Vitti, “Catechismi in francochiotica e il codice vaticano greco 1902,” Orientalia Christiana Periodica 24 (1958): 262-263. 22 Zu mehreren Ausgaben dieses Werkes siehe Legrand, Bibligraphie, Tome Premier (1894), 104-108 (Nr. 87); 309-315 (Nr. 223); 347-348 (Nr. 256). Zur Person des Übersetzers Legrand, Bibligraphie, Tome Troisième (1895), 407-416; Börje Knös, “੘ ȁİȠȞȐȡįȠȢ ੒ ĭȚȜĮȡȐȢ,” in ȆȡȠıijȠȡȐ İȚȢ ȈIJȓȜʌȦȞĮ Ȇ. ȀȣȡȚĮțȓįȘȞ İʌަ IJȘ İȚțȠıȚʌİȞIJĮİIJȘȡȓįȚ IJȘȢ țĮșȘȖİıަĮȢ ĮȣIJȠު (1926–1951) (ĬİııĮȜȠȞȓțȘ: ǼIJĮȚȡİȓĮ ȂĮțİįȠȞȚțȫȞ ȈʌȠȣįȫȞ, 1953), 345-357. 23 Vasileios Tsakiris, Die gedruckten griechischen Beichtbücher zur Zeit der Türkenherrschaft. Ihr kirchenpolitischer Enstehungszusammenhang und ihre Quellen (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2009), 102 erwähnt z.B., dass Philaras im Gegensatz zu Bellarmin, der nur die Fastenzeiten der Römisch-katholischen Kirche angibt, auch die Fastenzeiten der Ostkirche aufführt.

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mit einer Übersetzung der Werke Bellarmins betraut.24 Auch sein einziges rein theologisches Werk ȆĮȞȠʌȜަĮ ȆȞİȣȝĮIJȚț‫ޤ‬, das im Jahr 1630 erschien, ist in hohem Maße von der 1616 in Rom gedruckten griechischen Übersetzung des Großen Katechismus Bellarmins durch Philaras abhängig. Aus dem Vergleich beider Werke ergibt sich eine große Zahl textlicher Parallelen, die auf Rhodinosૃ große Wertschätzung gegenüber Bellarmin schließen lassen.25 Die Übersetzung von Philaras wurde auch von den Gegnern gelesen. Möglicherweise richtet sich die im Jahr 1622 in Wittenberg veröffentlichte Schrift des Metropoliten von Arta, Zacharios Gerganos (gest. nach 1631), die lutherisches Gedankengut enthielt, direkt gegen die Übersetzung von Philaras.26 Durch diese Ansicht beeinflusst hat offenbar Papst Urban VIII. dem Rektor des griechischen Kollegs, Andreas Eudaemon-Johannes, den Auftrag erteilt, eine Erwiderung zu verfassen.27 In der Leidener Universitätsbibliothek befindet sich ein Exemplar der Übersetzung aus dem Jahr 1616, das Kyrillos Lukaris dem holländischen Großhändler, Orientalisten und Kunstsammler David de le Leu de Wilhelm (1588–1658) zuschickte.28 Dass es sich um ein Exemplar von Lukaris handelt, wird durch einen Brief an denselben Sammler bestätigt, wo Lukaris mehrere Stellen aus dem Großen Katechismus als irrig und häretisch bezeichnet. Er erwähnt auch seine eigenen handschriftlichen Randnotizen, die er noch zu der Zeit, als er Patriarch von Alexandria war, schrieb.29 Obwohl die Kommentare ursprünglich nicht zur Veröffentlichung 24 Cirillo Karalewskij, “La missione greco-cattolica delle Cimara nell’Epiro nei secoli XVI-XVII (Continuazione),” Bessarione. Pubblicazione periodica di Studi Orientali, Serie III, vol. IX, Anno XVI, N. 120 (1912): 184: „Mi scrive V.S.R. che traduga un trattatello del fel. mem. Card. Bellarmi(no), et io non ho nissuno di detti trattati, quello delle contraversie e troppo, l’altri manco gli ho.” 25 Zu den Stellen siehe Tsakiris, Die gedruckten, 102-104. 26 ȋȇǿȈȉǿǹȃǿȀǾ ȀǹȉǾȋǾȈǿȈ||İੁȢ įȩȟĮȞ IJȠ૨ ĭȚȜĮȞșȡȫʌȠȣ,||ĬǼȅȊ ȆǹȉȇȅȈ, || ǿǾȈȅȊ ȋȇǿȈȉȅȊ Ȁǹǿ||ǹīǿȅȊ ȆȃǼȊȂǹȉȅȈ, Ȁǹǿ ȉǿȂǾȃ||ȕȠȒșİȚĮȞ IJİ, IJ૵Ȟ ĭȚȜȦșȑȦȞ ૮ȦȝĮȓȦȞ|| ਥȖȡȐijșȘ|| ਫ਼ʌȩ||ǽǹȋǹȇǿȅȊ īǼȇīǹȃȅȊ ǼȊīǼȃȅȊȈ||ਥț IJોȢ ਫ਼ʌİȡijȒȝȠȣ ਡȡIJȘȢ. ਫȞ IJૌ ȅȣȚʌIJİȝȕȑȡȖૉ ਥȞ IJૌ IJȠ૨ ǹȊīȅȊȈȉȅȊ ǺȅȇǼȀ ȋǹȁȀȅīȇǹijȓĮ 1622. 27 Gunnar Hering, Ökumenisches Patriarchat und europäische Politik 1620–1638 (Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1968), 92-93. 28 Keetje Rozemond, Notes Marginales de Cyrille Lucar dans un exemplaire du Grand Catéchisme de Bellarmin (’S-Gravenhage: Martinus Nijhoff, 1963), VI. 29 Legrand, Bibligraphie, Tome Quatrième (1896), 322: „Doctrinam Bellarmini falsam et haereticam in multis locis mitto tuae prudentiae. Est a me in quibusdam locis in margine notata; sed quia est in lingua graeca communi conscripta, nescio si tuae H. placebit.“

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bestimmt gewesen waren, fanden sie Eingang in die Edition Keetje Rozemonds, die diese in vier Spalten konzipierte: das italienische Original, die griechische Übersetzung von Philaras, die Kommentare von Lukaris und die Erläuterungen von Rozemond. Rozemond glaubt, in diesen Randbemerkungen einen Ausdruck der Denkweise von Lukaris zu sehen. Die meisten Randbemerkungen beziehen sich auf traditionell orthodoxe Themen wie z.B. die Frage über den Papst-Primat, das Filioque und die katholischen Lehrmeinungen über das Fegefeuer.30 In manchen Fällen lässt sich aber auch ein kalvinistischer Hintergrund feststellen. 31 Wie schon von Podskalsky bemerkt wurde, bleiben weite Passagen des Textes ganz unkommentiert.32 Das Lager der Konvertiten und Unierten hatte besonders mit den Werken des schon erwähnten Neophytos Rhodinos einen Erfolg zu verzeichnen. Den Erfolg der ȆĮȞȠʌȜަĮ ȆȞİȣȝĮIJȚț‫ ޤ‬konnten auch die orthodoxen Mitarbeiter des Lukaris nicht übersehen. Eine Antwort auf diese Schriften lieferte ein treuer Mitarbeiter des Lukaris, Metrophanes Kritopoulos (1589–1639), der auf Wunsch von Lukaris mehrere protestantische Länder bereiste, um den Protestantismus zu studieren.33 In seinem Beichtbuch greift er auch auf Bellarmin zurück. An einer Stelle unterstreicht er ausdrücklich die Rolle der Fürbitte Marias. Die Formulierung, die er hierzu verwendet, hat er aus der griechischen Übersetzung des Großen Katechismus von Bellarmin paraphrasiert.34 Von Kritopoulos sind auch andere 30

Rozemond, Notes Marginales, 11-13, 17, 19, 21, 23. Besonders Rozemond, Notes Marginales, 9: „ıȦIJ੽ȡ ੒ ȤȡȚıIJઁȢ, ੖IJȚ IJઁ ੅įȚȠȞ Į੝IJȠ૨ ĮੈȝĮ ਫ਼ʌ੻ȡ ਲȝ૵Ȟ ਥțȤ੼ĮȢ, ਥȜȣIJȡઆıĮIJȠ IJોȢ țĮIJ੺ȡĮȢ, įȚĮȜȜ੺ȟĮȢ ਲȝ઼Ȣ IJ૶ șİ૶ țĮ੿ ʌĮIJȡ઀. ıȦIJ੽ȡ į੻ Ƞ੝ Ȝ੼ȖİIJĮȚ ੖IJȚ ੪į੾ȖȘıİȞ ਲȝ઼Ȣ İੁȢ IJ੽Ȟ ıȦIJȘȡ઀ĮȞ; ȥİȣį੻Ȣ.“ 32 Podskalsky, Griechische Theologie, 173. 33 Georg Hofmann, SJ, Griechische Patriarchen und Römische Päpste. Untersuchungen und Texte, III/2: Metrophanes Kritopulos Patriarch von Alexandrien (1636–1639), III/3: Kosmas III Kalokagathos Patriarch von Alexandrien (1737–1746), III/4: Samuel Kapasoules Patriarch von Alexandrien (1710–1723), seine neuentdeckten Briefe an den Papst Klemens XI, Orientalia Christiana vol. XXXVI–2, Num. 97 (Roma: Pont. Institutum Orientalium Studiorum, 1934); Colin Davey, Pioneer for Unity. Metrophanes Kritopoulos (1589–1639) and relations between the Orthodox, Roman, Catholic and Reformed Church (London: The British Council of Churches, 1987). 34 ȂȘIJȡȠij੺ȞȠȣȢ IJȠ૨ ıȠijȦIJ੺IJȠȣ ੂİȡȠȝȠȞ੺ȤȠȣ țĮ੿ ȝİȖ੺ȜȠȣ ਕȡȤȚȝĮȞįȡ઀IJȠȣ ਝȜİȟĮȞįȡİ઀ĮȢ IJȠ૨ ȀȡȚIJȠʌȠ઄ȜȠȣ ਩țșİıȚȢ ı઄ȞIJȠȝȠȢ ʌİȡ੿ ȝİIJĮȞȠ઀ĮȢ țĮ੿ ਥȟȠȝȠȜȠȖ੾ıİȦȢ in ȀȦȞıIJĮȞIJ૙ȞȠȢ ǿ. ǻȣȠȕȠȣȞȚȫIJȘȢ, ȂȘIJȡȠijȐȞȘȢ ȀȡȚIJȩʌȠȣȜȠȢ (ਫȞ ǹșȒȞĮȚȢ: ȉȣʌ. ǺȜĮıIJȠȪ, 1915), 70-71: „ȉોȢ ʌĮȞĮȖ઀ĮȢ șİȠIJંțȠȣ țĮ੿ ਕİȚʌĮȡș੼ȞȠȣ ȂĮȡ઀ĮȢ. ȀĮ੿ ੖ıȠȞ į઄ȞĮIJĮȚ ਲ ʌĮȡ੺țȜȘıȚȢ ʌ੺ȞIJȦȞ IJ૵Ȟ Ƞ੝ȡĮȞ઀ȦȞ IJĮȖȝ੺IJȦȞ țĮ੿ ʌ੺ȞIJȦȞ IJ૵Ȟ ਕʌ’ Įੁ૵ȞȠȢ ਕȖ઀ȦȞ, IJંıȠȞ țĮ੿ ʌȠȜȜ੹ ʌİȡȚııંIJİȡȠȞ ʌĮȡȡȘı઀ĮȞ țȠȞIJ੹ İੁȢ IJઁȞ ȣੂંȞ IJȘȢ IJંȞ ț઄ȡȚȠȞ ੉ȘıȠ૨Ȟ ȋȡȚıIJંȞ, ʌĮȡ੹ ੖ıȠȞ ਩ȤȠȣıȚȞ ੖ȜĮ IJ੹ Ƞ੝ȡ੺ȞȚĮ IJ੺ȖȝĮIJĮ țĮ੿ ੖ȜȠȚ Ƞੂ ਚȖȚȠȚ. 31

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Aussagen über Bellarmin überliefert. Da sie aber nicht in Kritopoulos’ eigenen Werken überliefert sind, sondern aus der Feder der Franziskaner Pietro Verniero (gest. 1660) und Francesco da Serino (1594–1657) stammen, die in Kairo und Jerusalem wirkten, sind diese Aussagen nicht ganz überzeugend. Franscesco da Serino hat sehr lobende Sätze über Bellarmin aus dem Gespräch mit Kritopoulos aufgezeichnet.35 Pietro Verniero, der damals einige Zeit in Kairo weilte, besuchte in Begleitung des neuen Franziskaneroberen von Kairo Francesco da Lequile (gest. 1659) und des Ordensbruders Innocenz von Raiano Kritopoulos, der inzwischen Patriarch von Alexandria geworden war. Bei dieser Gelegenheit äußerte Kritopoulos den Wunsch, andere katholische Bücher, z.B. die Summa des heiligen Thomas von Aquin, die Werke des Kardinals Robert Bellarmin und das Römische Pontificale zu besitzen. Die Congregatio de Propaganda Fide sandte ihm aber nur ein Messbuch und das Pontificale.36 Dennoch hat sich ਜ਼ȝȦȢ ȝ੻ ੖ȜȠȞ IJȠ૨IJȠ ʌĮȡĮțĮȜİ૙ IJઁȞ ȋȡȚıIJંȞ Ȟ੹ ț੺ȝૉ IJ੹ șİȜ੾ȝĮIJĮ IJ૵Ȟ ȤȡȚıIJȚĮȞ૵Ȟ, ੕ȤȚ ਕIJ੾ IJȘȢ IJ੹ ț੺ȝȞİȚ, įȚંIJȚ ȝંȞȠȞ IJȠ૨ șİȠ૨ İੇȞĮȚ Ȟ੹ ਥȡȖ੺ȗİIJĮȚ țĮ੿ Ȟ੹ ਥȞİȡȖૌ IJ੽Ȟ ıȦIJȘȡ઀ĮȞ IJ૵Ȟ ਕȞșȡઆʌȠȞ, IJ૵Ȟ į੻ ਖȖ઀ȦȞ țĮ੿ ȝ੺ȜȚıIJĮ IJોȢ ਖȖ઀ĮȢ ĬİȠIJંțȠȣ İੇȞĮȚ Ȟ੹ ʌĮȡĮțĮȜ૵ıȚ IJઁȞ șİઁȞ įȚ੹ IJ੽Ȟ ıȦIJȘȡȓĮȞ IJȠ૨ țંıȝȠȣ“. Vgl. ǻǿǻǹȈȀǹȁǿǹ|| ȋȇǿȈȉǿǹȃǿȀǾ|| ȉǾȈ ǹīǿǹȈ ȉȅȊ ĬǼȅȊ|| ȇȍȂǹǿȀǾȈ,||țĮ੿ țĮșȠȜȚțોȢ ਫțțȜȘı઀ĮȢ.|| ǼȇȂǾȃǼȂǼȃǾ ǼǿȈ ȉǾȃ ȀȅǿȃǾȃ|| ȖȜ૵ııĮȞ IJ૵Ȟ ȇȦȝĮ઀ȦȞ, țĮ੿ İੁȢ ȝİȡȚțȠઃȢ|| IJંʌȠȣȢ ਥȟȘȖȘȝ੼ȞȘ|| ȆȡઁȢ IJ੽Ȟ IJ੺ȟȚȞ țĮ੿ ıȣȞ੾șİȚĮȞ IJોȢ ਕȞĮIJȠȜȚțોȢ||ǼțțȜȘı઀ĮȢ. Ǽȃ ȇȅȂǾ. ȆĮȡ੹ ǺĮȡșȠȜȠȝĮ઀૳ IJ૶ ǽĮȞ੼IJȦ. ઺ȤȚࢪ, 91: „ǻȚંIJȚ į੻Ȟ ਩ȤȠȝİȞ ȝİı઀IJȘȞ ਲ਼ ȕȠȘșઁȞ įȣȞĮIJઆIJİȡȠȞ ıȚȝ੺ İੁȢ IJઁȞ ȋȡȚıIJઁȞ ʌĮȡ੹ IJ੽Ȟ IJȠȣ· țĮ੿ įȚ੹ IJȠ૨IJȠ ੪ı੹Ȟ İੁʌȠ૨ȝİȞ IJ੽Ȟ ʌȡȠıİȣȤ੽Ȟ ੒ʌȠ૨ ȝ઼Ȣ ਥį઀įĮȟİȞ ੒ ȋȡȚıIJઁȢ, ıIJȡİijંȝİıșĮ ʌȡઁȢ IJ੽Ȟ ȝȘIJ੼ȡĮ įȚ੹ Ȟ੹ ȝ઼Ȣ ȕȠȘı੾ıૉ ȝİıȚIJİ઄ȠȞIJĮȢ Ȟ੹ Ȝ੺ȕȦȝİȞ ਥțİ૙ȞȠ ੒ʌȠȣ ਥȗȘIJ੾ıĮȝİȞ Ȝ੼ȖȠȞIJĮȢ IJઁ, Ȇ੺IJİȡ ਲȝ૵Ȟ. țĮșઅȢ İੁȢ IJȠ૨IJȠȞ IJઁȞ țંıȝȠȞ ȝȘIJ੼ȡĮ ਕij’ Ƞ੤ Ȗȣȡİ઄ıȦȝİȞ țĮȝ઀ĮȞ Ȥ੺ȡȚȞ ਕʌઁ IJȚȞ੹ Į੝ș੼ȞIJȘȞ, ʌĮȡĮį઀įȠȝİȞ IJ੽Ȟ įȠȣȜİ઀ĮȞ ਥțİ઀ȞȠȣ ੒ʌȠ૨ ਩ȤİȚ ȝİȖĮȜ੾IJİȡȘȞ į઄ȞĮȝȚȞ İੁȢ IJઁ ʌĮȜ੺IJȚ.“ 35 P. Teodoro Cavallon, OFM, ed., Croniche o annali di Terra Santa del P. Francesco da Serino, Tomo I, Bibliotheca Bio-Bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’ Oriente Franscano, Nuova Serie–Documenti Tomo XI (Quaracchi presso Firenze: Collegio di S. Bonaventura, 1939), 56: „...libri da lui molto desiderati e stimati, in particolare il Bellarmino, di cui disse a sodetti Padri: Mihi videtur magnus athleta, iam iam pugnare et vincere, per il che (soggione), io ne formo questo motto: Omnia vende et Bellarminum eme.“ 36 P. Girolamo Golubovich, OFM, ed., Croniche ovvero Annali di Terra Santa del P. Pietro Verniero di Montepiloso De’Frati Minori, Tomo III (1632–1637), Biblioteca Bio-Bibliografica della Terra Santa e dell’Oriente Francescano, Nuova Serie–Documenti Tomo VIII (Quaracchi presso Firenze: Collegio di S. Bonaventura, 1929), 325: „Mentre dimorai nel Cairo, aspettando alcuna buona, e sicura commodità d’imbarco, visitai più volte il Patriarca greco Alesandrino, a cui presentai in nome del P. Guardiano uno bellissimo breviario romano moderno, qual li fu gratissimo; volle ch’io gli procurassi che un suo nipote fusse stato ricevuto nel Collegio in Roma, e

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Kritopoulos die Ausgabe der Kontroversen von Bellarmin auf irgendeine Weise besorgt. Diese Vermutung kann aufgrund der Exemplare aus der Patriarchatsbibliothek von Alexandria, die allerdings keine Besitzvermerke des Metrophanes Kritopoulos haben, gestützt werden.37 Mit dem Patriarchen hat auch Theophilos Korydalleus (1574–1646) eng zusammengearbeitet. Lukaris hat diesen bedeutenden Aristoteliker als Lehrer für die reorganisierte Patriarchatsschule in Konstantinopel geholt.38 In seinem einzigen theologischen Werk bringt Korydalleus die Scholastik von Thomas v. Aquin, Duns Scotus, Robert Bellarmin und ihre modernen Innovationen in Verbindung mit der Abweichung der römischen Kirche von der Wahrheit. Deshalb wünscht er sich, dass die westliche Theologie und Scholastik keinen Platz in der Ostkirche finden.39 Mehr in Diensten des Patriarchen Kyrillos II. Kontares (1593–1641) stand Georgios Koressios (nach 1566–1659/60).40 Deswegen ist es auch verständlich, dass Lukaris sich nicht besonders gut mit ihm verstand und erst recht nicht, nachdem Koressios zum șİȠȜިȖȠȢ IJ߱Ȣ ȝİȖ‫ޠ‬ȜȘȢ ‫ݑ‬țțȜȘıަĮȢ ernannt worden war. Das bezeugt ein Brief an Antoine Léger aus dem Jahr 1636, wo Lukaris die Tätigkeit Koressios’ in Konstantinopel nicht besonders schmeichelhaft beschreibt. Ein Dorn im Auge war für Lukaris che gli sarebbono stati carissimi alcuni pezzi di libri e precise la Somma di San Thomaso, e l’opere del Bellarmino, con un Pontificale romano, io ne scrissi alla Sacra Congregatione de Propaganda Fide, e già hebbe quanto desiderava.“; Hofmann, Griechische Patriarchen III/2: Metrophanes Kritopulos, 77. 37 ĬİȩįȦȡȠȢ ǻ. ȂȠıȤȠȞȐȢ, ȀĮIJȐȜȠȖȠȚ IJ߱Ȣ ȆĮIJȡȚĮȡȤȚț߱Ȣ ǺȚȕȜȚȠș‫ޤ‬țȘȢ, ȉ. Ǻ´ (ਝȜİȟȐȞįȡİȚĮ: ȆĮIJȡȚĮȡȤİ૙ȠȞ ਝȜİȟĮȞįȡİȓĮȢ,1946), 240, 381, 382, 385, 387, 389, 390. 38 Cléobule Tsourkas, Les débuts de lҲenseignement philosophique et de la libre pensée dans les Balkans. La vie et lҲoeuvre de Théophile Corydalée (1570–1646) (Thessalonique: Institute for Balkan Studies, 1967); G. P. Henderson, The Revival of Greek Thought 1620–1830 (Edinburgh and London: Scottish Academic Press, 1971), 12-19. 39 ਫʌȚıIJȠȜ੽ įȠȖȝĮIJȚț੽ ȀȠȡȣįĮȜ੼ȠȢ IJȠ૨ ਥȞ ȀȦȞıIJĮȞIJȚȞȠȣʌંȜİȚ ǻȚį੺ıțĮȜȠȣ, in ਝį੹ȝ ǽȠȚȡȞȚțĮȕ઀Ƞȣ, ǹ‫ ݨ‬ȜȠȚʌĮ‫ ޥ‬įެįİțĮ IJࠛȞ Țș‫ ׃‬ʌȡĮȖȝĮIJİȚࠛȞ IJࠛȞ ʌİȡ‫ ޥ‬IJ߱Ȣ ‫݋‬țʌȠȡİުıİȦȢ IJȠࠎ ܼȖަȠȣ ʌȞİުȝĮIJިȢ ‫݋‬ț ȝިȞȠȣ IJȠࠎ ʌĮIJȡިȢ, ȉંȝȠȢ Ǻ࢝, (ਫȞ IJ૶ ȉȣʌȠȖȡĮijİ઀૳ IJોȢ ਥȞ ȆİIJȡȠȣʌંȜİȚ ǹ੝IJȠțȡĮIJȠȡȚțોȢ ਝțĮįȘȝ઀ĮȢ IJ૵Ȟ ਫʌȚıIJȘȝ૵Ȟ, 1797), 746: „ȅੂ į੻ į੽ ȈȤȠȜĮıIJȚțȠ੿ ʌ੺ȞIJİȢ, țĮ੿ ਙȜȜȠȚ IJ૵Ȟ ਫ਼ıIJ੼ȡȦȞ ǻȣIJȚț૵Ȟ, ȠੈȠȚ ĬȦȝ઼Ȣ IJİ țĮ੿ ȈțંIJȠȢ țĮ੿ ǺİȜȜĮȡȝ૙ȞȠȢ țĮ੿ Ƞੂ IJȠȚȠȣIJȠIJȡંʌȠȚ· ਩IJȚ į੻ į੽ țĮ੿ ȁȠȝȕ੺ȡįȠȢ ੒ IJĮ઄IJȘȢ ਥȟ੺ȡȟĮȢ IJોȢ IJਕȟİȦȢ· Ƞ੤IJȠȚ, ijȘȝ઀, Ƞ੝įİȝ઀ĮȞ ਩ȤȠȣıȚ ȤઆȡĮȞ ਥʌ੿ IJોȢ ਝȞĮIJȠȜȚțોȢ ਫțțȜȘı઀ĮȢ, IJોȢ ੕ȞIJȦȢ ਝʌȠıIJȠȜȚțોȢ.” 40 P. Vancourt, “Georges Coressios (+ vers 1654). Quelques aspects de sa doctrine sur la grâce et la prédestination, d’après des documents inédits,” Orientalia Christiana 32 (1933): 40-95; ȃ઀țȠȢ Ȃ. ȈIJȠȣʌ੺țȘȢ, īİެȡȖȚȠȢ ȀȠȡ‫ޢ‬ııȚȠȢ (1570 ci.– 1659/1660). Ǿ ȗȦ‫ޤ‬, IJȠ ‫ޢ‬ȡȖȠ IJȠȣ țĮȚ ȠȚ ʌȞİȣȝĮIJȚțȠަ ĮȖެȞİȢ IJȘȢ İʌȠȤ‫ޤ‬Ȣ IJȠȣ (ȋ઀ȠȢ: ȅȝ੾ȡİȚȠ ȆȞİȣȝĮIJȚțં, 2000).

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auch die scholastische Erziehung Koressios, die dieser aus Bellarmin geschöpft hat.41 Westliche scholastische Muster lassen sich tatsächlich in allen theologischen Werken Koressios’ nachweisen. Besonders in seinem Hauptwerk über den Hervorgang des heiligen Geistes sind mehrere Zitate Bellarmins ohne Werkangabe eingestreut.42 Trotzdem bleibt Koressios kritisch gegenüber seinem angeblichen Vorbild Bellarmin. Zeugnis dafür geben zwei Werke des Koressios, die gegen die Verteidigung des päpstlichen Primats von Bellarmin gerichtet sind.43 41 Legrand, Bibligraphie, Tome Quatrième (1896), 483-484: „A me sembre constava il mal animo di Georgio Coressi Scioto contra la verità evangelica; ma hora di costì venendo qui li nostri huomini ci hanno referito che detto Coressi è venuto à Constantinopoli con un scolaro di Jesuiti, et al presente si trova costì, et è più che vero che non havendo riuscito nell’arte della medicina che professava, si è fatto mercenario e parasito di una persona infame et indegna per oppugnar la vera dotrina del N. S. Jesu Christo e delli SS. Apostoli e di tutti li dottori orthodoxi. E credendo l’infelice di haver truovato la sua fortuna in prosperità casca nel precipitio dell’ eternal damnatione, travestito di varie forme di heresia. E primamente è idolatra e puoi justitario, terzo contemptore della gratia, coruttore del sacramento dell’ eucharistia. Vuol che Christo nostro S. Habbia molti compagni nella medatione. Il purgatorio doppo la morte, e, per dir ha per suo maëstro Bellarmino; si bene simula non esser papista e puoi per dir quello che è con verità de conscientia, è un bravo epicureo che non crede niente. Con li paristi non consona perchè di lui conto non fanno; con li Greci consona perchè apresso quelli miseri truova d’ ingrassar la panza. Ma lui è troppo alieno da tutti, servando nel suo cruore un insigne atheismo, e cosi se volta agusando/agatando il mondo con queste mascare è venuto costi; e non so quello che operi il valente sedutore; spero che sarà conosciuto il traditore per tal qual è, e la gloria di Jesu Christo restarà integra, e il Coresi confuso e vergognato.” 42 TȠ૨ ȝĮțĮȡ઀IJȠȣ īİȦȡȖ઀Ƞȣ țȠȡİıı઀Ƞȣ IJȠ૨ ȋ઀Ƞȣ ਥȖȤİȚȡ઀įȚȠȞ ʌİȡ੿|| IJોȢ ਥțʌȠȡȠ઄ıİȦȢ IJȠ૨ ਖȖ઀Ƞȣ ȆȞİ઄ȝĮIJȠȢ..., in ȉȅȂȅȈ ȀǹȉǹȁȁǹīǾȈ|| ਥȞ મ ʌİȡȚ੼ȤȠȞIJĮȚ ıȣȖȖȡĮijĮ੿.|| ਝȞȦȞ઄ȝȦȞ IJȚȞ૵Ȟ|| ȀĮ੿ ੉Ȧ੺ȞȞȠȣ IJȠ૨ ȞȠȝȠij઄ȜĮțȠȢ|| ȀĮ੿ īİȦȡȖ઀Ƞȣ IJȠ૨ ȀȠȡİıı઀Ƞȣ.||... ||ȉȣʌȠșİ੿Ȣ ਥȞ ਩IJİȚ IJ૶ ıȦIJȘȡ઀૳ ࢞ĮȤࢮȕ࢝, 280: „ ੒ ȝ੼ȞIJȠȚ ȕİȜȜĮȡȝ૙ȞȠȢ ਕ૘įȚȠȞ İੇȞĮȚ IJઁȞ ʌ੼ȝȥȚȞ ȕȠ઄ȜİIJĮȚ țĮ੿ ਩ȤİȚȞ įȚIJIJ੽Ȟ ıȤ੼ıȚȞ, IJઁȞ ȝ੻Ȟ ʌȡઁȢ IJઁȞ ʌİȝʌȚțંȞ, IJઁȞ į੻ ʌȡઁȢ IJઁȞ ȜȘʌIJȚțઁȞ, țĮ੿ țĮIJ੹ ȝ੻Ȟ IJઁȞ ʌİȝʌIJȚțઁȞ. İੇȞĮȚ ਕ૘įȚȠȞ, țĮIJ੹ į੻ IJઁȞ ȜȘʌIJȚțઁȞ ੒ȥȚȖİȞોIJİ țĮ੿ ਩ȖȤȡȠȞȠȞ. ਕȜȜ’੕ȞIJȦȢ Ƞ੝ț ਩ıIJȚȞ ਥȖțȡĮIJ੹Ȣ IJȠ૨ ıȤȠȜĮıIJȚț૵Ȟ ȜંȖȦȞ įȚIJIJ੽Ȟ ਥțșİȝ੼ȞȦȞ IJઁȞ ʌȡંȠįȠȞ ਕ૘įȚંȞ IJİ țĮ੿ ਩ȖȤȡȠȞȠȞ.”; 296: „țĮ੿ ੒ ȝ੻Ȟ ȕİȜȜĮȡȝ૙ȞȠȢ, Ƞ੝ ȕȠ઄ȜİIJĮȚ ਥȞ IJ૶ ਥț IJȠ૨ ਥȝȠ૨ Ȝ੾ȥİIJĮȚ ȞȠİ૙ıșĮȚ IJઁȞ ȆĮIJ੼ȡĮ,…”; 300: „੒ į੻ ȕİȜȜĮȡȝ૙ȞȠȢ, țĮ੿ ਪIJİȡȠȚ ਕ૘įȚȠȞ IJ઀șİȞIJĮȚ IJ੽Ȟ ʌ੼ȝȥȚȞ țĮ੿ ਩ȖȤȡȠȞȠȞ IJઁȞ IJȠ૨ ȝİIJİȤંȞIJȦȞ ȝ੼șİȟȚȞ, ੖ȝȦȢ ਩ȖȤȡȠȞȠȢ ਥıIJ੿Ȟ ਥʌİȚį੽ ਲ ʌ੼ȝȥȚȢ IJ૶ ʌȠ૨ țĮ੿ IJ૶ įȚĮIJ੿ ıȣȞ੼ȗİȣțIJĮȚ, ʌȡઁ į੻ IJોȢ IJȠ૨ țંıȝȠȣ ıȣıIJ੺ıİȦȢ IJĮ૨IJĮ ਕʌોȞ, țĮ੿ ȝİIJ੹ IJ੽Ȟ IJȠ૨ țંıȝȠ૨ ı઄ıIJĮıȚȞ· ਩ȖȤȡȠȞ੺ İੁıȚ IJĮ૨IJĮ, țĮ੿ Ƞੂ ੖ȡȠȚ į੻ İੁıȚ țĮIJ੹ ʌઁ ʌȠ૨ țĮ੿ IJઁ įȚĮIJ੿ İੁı੿ įȚ੺ijȠȡȠȚ, ਕȜȜ’੖ʌȦȢ ਥʌ੿ IJ੽Ȟ ʌȡંșİıȚȞ ਥʌĮȞĮț੺ȝȥȠȝİȞ,” usw. 43 Beide Werke sind noch immer unediert (Bruchteile der Schrift mit dem Incipit ਺ȖȠ૨ȝĮȚ, ੯ ਕțȡȠĮIJ੾ȡȚȠȞ ijȚȜ੾țȠȠȞ,… hat ȈIJȠȣʌ੺țȘȢ, īİެȡȖȚȠȢ ȀȠȡ‫ޢ‬ııȚȠȢ, 372374 aus dem Kodex Nr. 313 der Bibliothek des Johannesklosters in Patmos her-

Bellarmin-Rezeption im Umfeld der Patriarchen von Konstantinopel

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Ebenfalls aus dem Umfeld des Patriarchen kam Meletios Syrigos (1585–1663). Als ein Schüler von Theophilos Korydalleus wurde er von Lukaris im Jahr 1630 in das Chrysopege-Kloster im Stadtteil Galata im Konstantinopel eingeladen, um dem Patriarchen im Kampf gegen westliche Missionsaktivitäten durch Predigt und Lehrtätigkeit Hilfe zu leisten.44 Nachdem Lukaris im Jahr 1638 von Janitscharen ermordet worden war, hat Syrigos die Fronten gewechselt und eine Gegenschrift gegen die Confessio45 seines ehemaligen Gönners geschrieben, die aber erst später im Jahr 1690 mit der Schrift des Patriarchen Dositheos II. gedruckt wurde.46 Wie jüngst Nadia Miladinova in ihrer Dissertation veranschaulichte,

ausgegeben – vgl. Roberti Cardinalis Bellarmini Opera Omnia I, 312 und f.). Die Schrift mit dem Incipit Ǽੁıȕ੺ȜȜȠȞ ੒ ǺİȜȜĮȡȝ૙ȞȠȢ… ist in zwei Handschriften aus dem Metochion des Heiligen Grabes (Nr. 31 und Nr. 437, beide jetzt in der Nationalbibliothek in Athen) und im Kodex Nr. 315 der Bibliothek des Johannesklosters in Patmos erhalten (ȈIJȠȣʌ੺țȘȢ, īİެȡȖȚȠȢ ȀȠȡ‫ޢ‬ııȚȠȢ, 369). 44 Eine Bibliographie zu Person und Werk des Syrigos ist zu finden bei Klaus-Peter Todt, “Syrigos, Meletios (Taufname Markos), bedeutender griechisch-orthodoxer Theologe,” in Biographisch-Bibliographisches Kirchenlexikon, Band XI, ed. Friedrich Wilhelm Bautz, Traugott Bautz (Herzberg: T. Bautz, 1996), 369-372. Aus der neueren Literatur siehe Vera G. Tchentsova, “Les documents grecs du XVIII siècle: pièces authentiques et pièces fausses. 3. Mélétios Syrigos, véritable auteur de la lettre adressée au patriarche de Moscou Nikon par les zographoi Jean et Georges,” Orientalia Christiana Periodica 73 (2007): 311-345. 45 Erstmals in Konstantinopel 1629 gedruckt, um vier Fragen vermehrte griechischlateinische Version. Lukaris äußert sich in seinem Glaubensbekenntniss in 18 kurzen Artikeln in meist kalvinistischer Weise über die Trinität, die Heilige Schrift, die Prädestination der Erwählten, Gottes Schöpfung und Vorsehung, die Erschaffung und den Fall des Menschen, Christi Heilwerk, die Rechtfertigung allein aus dem Glauben, die Kirche, die Sakramente von Taufe und Eucharistie und über das Schicksal der Verstorbenen. In den vier Fragen geht es darum, ob alle Christen die Heilige Schrift lesen sollten, ob diese für alle Christen verständlich ist, aus welchen Büchern sie besteht und was von den Bildern Christi und der Heiligen zu halten ist – ȀȊȇǿȁȁȅȊ|| ȆǹȉȇǿǹȇȋȅȊ|| ȀȦȞıIJĮȞIJȚȞȠȣʌંȜİȦȢ, ੒ȝȠȜȠȖ઀Į|| IJોȢ ȋȡȚıIJȚĮȞȚțોȢ ʌ઀-||ıIJİȦȢ.||CYRILLI|| PATRIARCHAE|| Constantinopolitani Confessio|| Christianae fidei|| Genevae|| Excudebat Iohannes de Tournes.|| Anno CI‫ ڐ‬I‫ ڐ‬CXXXIII. 46 ȉȅȊ ȂǹȀǹȇǿȉȅȊ||ȂǼȁǼȉǿȅȊ ȈȊȇǿīȅȊ||ǻǿǻǹȈȀǹȁȅȊ ȉǼ Ȁǹǿ ȆȇȍȉȅȈȊīīǼȁȅȊ||ȉǾȈ Ǽȃ ȀȍȃȈȉǹȃȉǿȃȅȊȆȅȁǼǿ ȂǼīǹȁǾȈ ǼȀȀȁǾȈǿǹȈ,|| ȀĮIJ੹ IJ૵Ȟ țĮȜȕȚȞȚț૵Ȟ țİijĮȜĮ઀ȦȞ, țĮ੿ ਥȡȦIJ੾ıİȦȞ țȣȡ઀ȜȜȠȣ IJȠ૨ ȜȠȣț੺ȡİȦȢ,|| ਝȞIJȚ૦૧ȘıȚȢ.|| ȀĮ੿||ǻȅȈǿĬǼȅȊ||ȆǹȉȇǿǹȇȋȅȊ ǿǼȇȅȈȅȁȊȂȍȃ|| ǼīȋǼǿȇǿǻǿȅȃ Ȁǹȉǹ ȉǾȈ|| țĮȜȕȚȞȚțોȢ ijȡİȞȠȕȜĮȕİ઀ĮȢ.||ȉȣʌȦș੼ȞIJĮ, įȚ੹ įĮʌ੺ȞȘȢ IJİ, țĮ੿ ਥʌȚIJȡȠʌોȢ, IJȠ૨ ʌĮȞİțȜĮȝʌȡȠIJ੺IJȠȣ, İ੝ıİ-||ȕİıIJ੺IJȠȣ IJİ, țĮ੿ ȖĮȜȘȞȠIJ੺IJȠȣ, Į੝ș੼ȞIJȠȣ țĮ੿ ਲȖİȝȞȠȢ ʌ੺ıȘȢ Ƞ੝ȖțȡȠȕȜĮȤ઀ĮȢ,||țȣȡ઀Ƞȣ, țȣȡ઀Ƞȣ, ੁȦ੺ȞȞȠȣ ȀȦȞıIJĮȞIJ઀ȞȠȣ ȝʌĮıĮȡ੺ȝʌĮ ȕȠİȕંįĮ. ਫʌȚ||ȝİȜİ઀઺ į੻, țĮ੿ įȚȠȡșઆıİȚ, IJȠ૨ ȜȠȖȚȦIJ੺IJȠȣ ȞȠIJĮȡ઀Ƞȣ, IJોȢ||ȝİȖ੺ȜȘȢ ਥțțȜȘı઀ĮȢ țȣȡ઀Ƞȣ

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hat Meletios Syrigos in dieser Schrift Bellarmin als eine direkte Quelle für seine Ausführungen über die Panoplia des Euthymios Zigabenos benutzt.47 Meletios Syrigos war bekannt für sein großes Interesse an Bellarmin. Demetrios Prokopios, der im 18. Jahrhundert über gelehrte Griechen schrieb, hat sogar von ihm behauptet, dass er ganz Bellarmin atme.48 Erst durch die Vorarbeit von Miladinova wissen wir, dass Meletios Syrigos direkt aus dem Lateinischen übersetzt hat und die Argumentation Bellarmins für sein Werk anpasste.49 Er hat sogar manche Passagen ganz weggelassen, denn ȝȚȤĮ੽Ȝ ȝĮțȡો|| IJȠ૨ ਥȟ ੁȦĮȞȞ઀ȞȦȞ.||ૅǼȞ IJૌ ʌİȡȚij੾ȝ૳ ʌંȜİȚ ȝʌȠȣțȠȣȡ੼ıIJȘ IJોȢ ȅ੝ȖțȡȠȕȜĮȤ઀ĮȢ,||ਫȞ ਩IJİȚ ıȦIJȘȡ઀૳: ࢞ĮȤࢮ࢝ : ȀĮIJ੹ ȂોȞĮ ȈİʌIJ੼ȝȕȡȚȠȞ. 47 Nadia Miladinova, The Panoplia dogmatike by Euthymios Zygadenos: a study on the first edition published in Greek in 1710 (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 124-132. 48 ǻȘȝȘIJȡ઀Ƞȣ ȆȡȠțȠʌ઀Ƞȣ, ਥʌȚIJİIJȝȘȝ੼ȞȘ ਥʌĮȡ઀șȝȘıȚȢ IJ૵Ȟ țĮIJ੹ IJઁȞ ʌĮȡİȜșંȞIJĮ Įੁ૵ȞĮ ȜȠȖ઀ȦȞ īȡĮȚț૵Ȟ, țĮ੿ ʌİȡ઀ IJȚȞȦȞ ਥȞ IJ૶ Ȟ૨Ȟ Įੁ૵ȞȚ ਕȞșȠ઄ȞIJȦȞ in ȂİıĮȚȦȞȚț‫ޣ‬ ȕȚȕȜȚȠș‫ޤ‬țȘ III, ed. ȀȦȞıIJĮȞIJ઀ȞȠȢ ȃ. Ȉ੺șĮȢ (ਫȞ ǺİȞİIJ઀઺: ȉȣʌ. IJȠ૨ ȋȡંȞȠȣ, 1872), 484: „ȂİȜ੼IJȚȠȢ ੒ Ȉȣȡ઀ȖȠȣ ਥț Ȟ੾ıȠȣ Ȁȡ੾IJȘȢ, ਕȞ੽ȡ İ੝ıİȕ੼ıIJĮIJȠȢ, ਚȖȚȠȢ țĮ੿ ਕʌȠıIJȠȜȚțંȢ, İੁį੾ȝȦȞ IJોȢ ਥȜȜȘȞȚțોȢ țĮ੿ ȜĮIJȚȞȚțોȢ ȖȜઆIJIJȘȢ, țĮ੿ IJોȢ ਩ȟȦ ıȠij઀ĮȢ, țĮ੿ IJોȢ ੂİȡ઼Ȣ șİȠȜȠȖ઀ĮȢ ਥȢ ȕ੺șȠȢ ȤȦȡ੾ıĮȢ· ıȣȞ੼ȖȡĮȥİ įȚ੺ijȠȡĮ ਥțțȜȘıȚĮıIJȚț੹ ıȣȖȖȡ੺ȝȝĮIJĮ, ੰȞ ਩ȞȚĮȚ IJ઄ʌȠȚȢ ਥțį੼įȠIJĮȚ·ਥȞ ȠੈȢ țĮ઀IJȠȚ Ȗİ įȠțİ૙ ʌȞ੼İȚȞ ੖ȜȦȢ IJઁȞ ǺİȜĮȡȝ૙ȞȠȞ,...” 49 ȉȅȊ ȂǹȀǹȇǿȉȅȊ||ȂǼȁǼȉǿȅȊ ȈȊȇǿīȅȊ,134r: „īİȞİ੹ įȣȠțĮȚįİț੺IJȘ ਕʌઁ IJȠઃȢ Įı࢝ ਪȦȢ ĮIJ࢝ ȤȡંȞȠȣȢ IJોȢ ıȦIJȘȡ઀ĮȢ. ਝȞ੺ȝİıĮ İੁȢ IJȠઃȢ ȤȡંȞȠȣȢ IJȠ઄IJȠȣȢ ਵțȝĮıİȞ ਩ȞĮȢ ț੺ʌȠȚȠȢ Ǽ੝ș઄ȝȚȠȢ ǽȣȖĮȕȘȞઁȢ, ਙȞșȡȦʌȠȢ ਥȜȜȠȖȚȝઆIJĮIJȠȢ ੒ ੒ʌȠ૙ȠȢ Ȝ੼ȖİȚ IJ੼IJȠȚĮȢ ȜȠȖોȢ İੁȢ IJઁ țĮIJ੹ ȂĮșĮ૙ȠȞ İ੝ĮȖȖ੼ȜȚȠȞ, İੁȢ IJઁ· țȢ· țİij੺ȜĮȚȠȞ į੻Ȟ İੇʌİ IJĮ૨IJĮ İੇȞĮȚ IJ੹ ıȘȝ੺įȚĮ IJȠ૨ ıઆȝĮIJંȢ ȝȠȣ, țĮ੿ IJȠ૨ Į੆ȝĮIJȠȢ ȝȠȣ, ਕȜȜ੹ IJĮ૨IJĮ İ૙ȞĮȚ IJઁ ı૵ȝĮ țĮ੿ ĮੈȝĮ ȝȠȣ, țĮ੿ ȝİIJ’ ੕ȜȚȖĮ· țĮș૵Ȣ ਫ਼ʌ੻ȡ ij઄ıȚȞ ਥș੼Ȧıİ IJ੽Ȟ ı੺ȡțĮ ੒ʌȠ૨ ਥʌોȡİȞ· ਗȞ ʌȡ੼ʌİȚ Ȟ੹ Ȝ੼ȖȦȝİȞ Ƞ੢IJȦȢ ਥș੼Ȧıİ. įȚĮIJ੿ į੻Ȟ IJ੽Ȟ ਩țĮȝİ șİઁȞ țĮIJ੹ ij઄ıȚȞ· IJઁȞ Į੝IJઁȞ IJȡંʌȠȞ țĮ੿ Į੝IJ੹ IJ੹ ਕȜȜ੹ ਕ૦૧੾IJȦȢ İੁȢ Į੝IJઁ IJઁ ȗȦȠʌȠȚંȞ IJȠȣ ı૵ȝĮ. țĮ੿ İੁȢ ȆĮȞȠʌȜ઀ĮȞ IJȠȣ, ਥȞ țİijĮȜĮ઀૳· țĮ· įİ઀ȤȞİȚ ʌȜĮIJ઄IJİȡȠȞ ਕʌઁ IJȠઃȢ ਖȖ઀ȠȣȢ ʌĮIJ੼ȡĮȢ, ਵȖȠȣȞ IJઁȞ īȡȘȖંȡȚȠȞ ȃ઄ııȘȢ, țĮ੿ IJઁȞ ǻĮȝĮıțȘȞઁȞ ੉Ȧ੺ȞȞȘȞ, IJ੽Ȟ ȝİIJĮȕȠȜ੽Ȟ IJȠ૨ ਙȡIJȠȣ țĮ੿ IJȠ૨ Ƞ੅ȞȠȣ, İੁȢ ı૵ȝĮ țĮ੿ ĮੈȝĮ ȋȡȚıIJȠ૨. įȚĮIJ੿ IJંIJİ ਵȡȤȚıİ Ȟ੹ ȖȡȠȚț઼IJĮȚ țĮ੿ İੁȢ IJ੹ ȝ੼ȡȘ IJોȢ ਬȜȜ੺įȠȢ țĮ੿ ਕȞĮIJȠȜોȢ ਲ Įੂȡİı઀Į IJȠ૨ ǺİȡİȖțĮȡ઀Ƞȣ. ਲ ੒ʌંȚĮ ਱ȡȤȚıİ ȝ੻Ȟ Ȟ੹ ȖİȞȞ૙IJĮȚ İੁȢ IJ੽Ȟ ੉IJĮȜ઀ĮȞ ਕʌઁ IJȠઃȢ ȤȚȜ઀ȠȣȢ ʌİȞȞોȞIJĮ ȤȡંȞȠȣȢ ਕʌઁ IJȠ૨ ȋȡȚıIJȠ૨ ਕȝ੽ IJંIJİ ȕȜĮıIJ੺ȞȠȣıĮ țĮ੿ țȜ੺įȠȣȢ İੁȢ IJȠઃȢ įȚĮįંȤȠȣȢ IJȠȣ, ਩ʌİȝʌİȞ ਩ȦȢ țĮ੿ İੁȢ ਲȝ઼Ȣ IJ੽Ȟ ੒ıȝ੽Ȟ IJȠ૨ șĮȞ੺IJȠȣ. țĮ੿ ਲ ਕȞIJ઀șİIJȠȢ ਥțİ઀ȞȠȣ ȖȜ૵ııĮ țĮ੿ ʌĮȝȝ઀ĮȡȠȢ, ʌȠIJ੻ ਩ȜİȖİ IJઁ ı૵ȝĮ IJȠ૨ ȋȡȚıIJȠ૨ Ȟ੹ ȝ੽Ȟ İੇȞĮȚ İੁȢ IJ੽Ȟ İ੝ȤĮȡȚıIJ઀ĮȞ. ਩ȟȦ țĮșઅȢ İੇȞĮȚ IJઁ ıȘȝĮȚȞંȝİȞȠȞ İੁȢ IJઁ ıȘȝİ૙ȠȞ IJȠȣ. țĮ੿ ੒ İੁțȠȞȚȗંȝİȞȠȢ ȗȦȞIJĮȞઁȢ ਙȞșȡȦʌȠȢ İੁȢ IJ੽Ȟ ਙȥȣȤંȞ IJȠȣ İੁțંȞĮ țĮ੿ ʌȠIJ੻ ʌ૵Ȣ Ȟ੹ İੇȞĮȚ ਕȜȘș૵Ȣ IJઁ ı૵ȝĮ IJȠ૨ Ȁȣȡ઀Ƞȣ İੁȢ IJ੽Ȟ İ੝ȤĮȡȚıIJ઀ĮȞ, ਕȜȜ੹ țĮ੿ ੒ ਙȡIJȠȢ țĮ੿ ੒ ȠੇȞȠȢ Ȟ੹ ਕʌȠȝİ઀ȞȠȣıȚ ʌ੺ȜȚȞ İੁȢ IJ੽Ȟ ੁį઀ĮȞ IJȠȣȢ ij઄ıȚȞ. ੮ıIJİ Ȟ੹ İੇȞĮȚ țĮ੿ ਙȡIJȠȢ țĮ੿ ı૵ȝĮ ȋȡȚıIJȠ૨, IJ੽Ȟ ੒ʌȠ૙ĮȞ IJĮ઄IJȘȞ ਫ਼ıIJ੼ȡĮȞ ȖȞઆȝȘȞ IJ੽Ȟ ਥįȚĮį੼ȤșȘıĮȞ Ƞੂ ਕʌઁ ȁȠȣIJ੼ȡȠȣ ੑȞȠȝĮıș੼ȞIJİȢ, țĮ੿ ਥț੺ȝĮı઀Ȟ IJȘȞ ੁįȚંȞ IJȠȣȢ įંȖȝĮ. țĮ੿ ਩ȦȢ IJ੽Ȟ ı੾ȝİȡȠȞ IJઁ țȡĮIJȠ૨ıȚ. įȚ੹ IJȠ૨IJȠ țĮ੿ Ƞੂ ʌĮIJ੼ȡİȢ ੒ʌȠ૨ ਷ıĮȞ İੁȢ IJȠઃȢ țĮȚȡȠઃȢ ਥțİ઀ȞȠȣȢ, ਥȝİIJĮȤİȚȡ઀ȗȠȣȞIJĮȞ, ʌȜ੼ȠȞ ijĮȞİȡĮ૙Ȣ Ȝ੼ȟİıȚ, ੖IJĮȞ ਥș੼ȜĮıȚ Ȟ੹ ijĮȞİȡઆıȠȣıȚ IJઁ ȝȣıIJ੾ȡȚȠȞ. ੒ȝȠ઀ȦȢ țĮ੿ Ƞੂ ȝİIJĮ-

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sie zitierten westliche Autoritäten aus dem 12. Jahrhundert, die offensichtlich für das orthodoxe Publikum nicht interessant waren. Im vorliegenden Beitrag wurde der Versuch unternommen das Wirken Bellarmins auf das orthodoxe griechische Schrifttum im Umfeld der Patriarchen in der ersten Hälfte des 17. Jahrhunderts zu beleuchten. Der Verfasser ist sich dessen bewusst, dass er hier dem Leser keinen vollständigen und systematischen Überblick zum Thema bieten kann. Dies ist leider zu dieser Zeit auch nicht möglich, weil viele der erwähnten Werke noch immer nur handschriftlich zu lesen sind und selbst die gedruckten Ausgaben neuer kritischer Editionen bedürfen. Dennoch kann man mit Sicherheit behaupten, dass nur zwei Werke Bellarmins, d.h. die Kontroversen und der Große Katechismus, rezipiert wurden.50 Es lassen sich zwei Arten von Rezeption unterscheiden: Das chronologisch frühere Wirken beschränkt sich hauptsächlich auf apologetische Antworten aus dem Lager der Griechen in Italien und im Osmanischen Reich. Mit dem Patriarchen Kyrillos Lukaris beginnt die Ära eines kommentierten Lesens von Bellarmin, welche schon umfangreichere Zitate aus seinem Werk schöpft. Die Absolventen der italienischen Hochschulen, wie z.B. Koressios, übernehmen das lateinische scholastische System und setzen sich mit Bellarmin sogar in separaten Traktaten, allerdings über traditionelle griechisch-lateinische Streitpunkte, polemisch auseinander.

ȖİȞ੼ıIJİȡȠȚ įȚ੹ Ȟ੹ ਕȞĮIJȡ੼ʌȠȣıȚ IJ੹Ȣ ਕıİȕİ૙Ȣ ȖȞઆȝĮȢ țĮ੿ Ȝ੼ȟİȚȢ IJ૵Ȟ ĮੂȡİIJȚț૵Ȟ ਥțİ઀ȞȦȞ. Vgl. Roberti Cardinalis Bellarmini Opera Omnia III, 342. 50 Wichtig war auch die griechische Übersetzung eines anderes Werkes von Bellarmin, nämlich De ascensione mentis in Deum per scalas rerum creatarum, aber dieses Buch wurde erst für die späteren griechischen Theologen relevant. Dazu Podskalsky, Griechische Theologie, 126, Anm. 531.

PART V: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY IN PARATEXTS

CHAPTER THIRTEEN DEAD READERS SOCIETY: EARLY MODERN THEOLOGICAL DEBATES IN HISTORICAL ANTHROPOLOGICAL PERSPECTIVES ZSOMBOR TÓTH

1. Introduction After the Jesuit order had secured permanent residence at Sárospatak in 1663, a new period commenced in the history of theological debates between Catholics and Calvinists in early modern Royal Hungary. It was in Sárospatak and Košice, two significant cultural and economic centres of the Hungarian Kingdom, that the Jesuit and Protestant elite engaged in a series of prolonged and dynamic debates. The main actors in this confessional frenzy between them produced an impressive body of printed texts.1 During the 1660s, these were often accompanied by intense oral debates in which audience members also participated.2 These debates centred on well-known themes, including the definition of the true church (vera ecclesia) and the nature of the true doctrine. Two prominent characters who left their mark on the history of this period, the Calvinist István Kézdivásárhelyi Matkó (16251693) and the Jesuit Matthias Sambar (1617– 1

János Heltai and Réka Tasi, eds., „Tenger az igaz hitrül való egyenetlenségek vitatásának eláradott özöne...” Tanulmányok XVI–XIX. századi hitvitáinkról (Miskolc: Miskolci Egyetemi BTK, Régi Magyar Irodalomtörténeti Tanszék, 2005), 175-197. 2 JenĘ Zoványi, “Szóbeli hitviták Sárospatakon és Kassán,” Theológiai Szemle 9, no. 1 (1933/1934): 139-148; János Heltai, “Hitviták és irodalmi élet Kassán az 1660-as évtizedben – Vierouþné polemiky a literárny život v Košiciach okolo roku 1660,” in 350. výroþie Košickej univerzity. Jubilejný zborník príspevkov z medzinárodnej vedeckej konferencie, Košice 27. februára 2007, ed. Cyril Hišem, Štefan Eliáš, and Dáša Fedorková (Košice: VydavateĐstvo Michala Vaška, 2007), 39-48.

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1685), confronted each other several times, as books they wrote against each other indicate. Their oral discussions and the texts they wrote must have had a profound appeal, for well after the passing away of the protagonists, readers of later times enthusiastically read and commented upon their arguments. This article is based on two of Matkó’s works, which he wrote in response to Sambar, and attempts to provide an interpretation of the marginal notes added to them by eighteenth-century Calvinist and Catholic readers.3 These handwritten annotations can greatly enhance the historian’s understanding of early modern religious polemic and its significance, for they are representative of a clash between two opposing confessional and theological discourses, but also constitute expressions of loyalty, confessional identity, and acts of witnessing. Furthermore, the readers’ predisposition to start an imaginary debate with already dead or contemporary authors suggests that the religious dispute was a multimedia performance, which due to print technology opened up new perspectives for communication and fulfilled particular social, cultural, and historical functions in the early modern era. This type of active and appropriative reading can justly be defined as “studying for the sake of acting.”4 The aim of the case study reviewed in this essay is to demonstrate how the marginal notes make it possible to understand early modern religious controversy as a means to express one’s confessional and national identity through claiming allegiance to the “one true church.” The act of taking a particular side in a certain debate (as testified by marginal notes) during the process of reading, when considered in parallel with the printed texts themselves, can help provide a fuller appreciation of how early modern imagined communities emerged.5 3

István Matkó, Fövenyen épített ház romlása [The Collapse of the House Built upon Sand] (Szeben/Sibiu, 1666); and István Matkó, X, út, Tök, Könyvnek eltépése, avagy Bányászcsákány [Hack Hammer, or Tearing Apart His Book] (Sárospatak, 1668). The annotated copies I used in my research are now kept in the holdings of the Lucian Blaga Central University Library, Cluj, Romania (Fövényen, shelf number: 3933), and the Library of the Romanian Academy in Cluj (Bányászcsákány, shelf number: BMV. R. 303). 4 I am referring to Lisa Jardine’s and Anthony Grafton’s article reconstructing how Gabriel Harvey used to read Titus Livius. They have convincingly illustrated the functions of his critical reading and active appropriation of the text, which often served as a motivation or even as a trigger for actions undertaken by Harvey. Lisa Jardine and Anthony Grafton, “Studied for Action: How Gabriel Harvey Read His Livy,” Past and Present 129, no. 129 (November 1990): 76. 5 I am relying on Benedict Anderson’s term and its application to early modern times by Peter Burke. Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities, rev. ed. (Lon-

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2. Texts and Contexts Matkó’s two texts were part of a broader Protestant contribution to a debate that had been unleashed by the Jesuits Matthias Sambar and Emericus Kis (1631–1683) in 1661, and came to an end without any remarkable results in 1669. Sambar had published a tract entitled Három idvösseges kérdés [Three Salvation-Bringing Questions]6 which contained three main arguments—namely, that the Lutheran and Calvinist religions were counterfeit, that only the papist religion was true, and finally that Protestantism contradicted Holy Scripture. This work provoked strong reactions from both Lutherans and Calvinists, and no fewer than seventy-seven or seventy-eight printed texts were written by Protestants which aimed to refute Sambar.7 Accordingly, Matkó’s two answers to Sambar’s texts published in 1666 and 1668 respectively had been preceded by other Protestant contributions. Matkó was only one of several Protestants who actively contributed to the debate, yet there was something extraordinary about his conflict with Sambar. He is still to this day remembered as a charismatic Calvinist opponent of the Jesuits during the 1660s. Indeed, Matkó became the most widely acclaimed Calvinist detractor of Sambar and the Jesuits, notwithstanding the paucity of reliable historical data testifying to any face-to-face meetings, let alone a public debate. Nevertheless, the Calvinist collective memory fabricated a very popular story about their rivalry, which culminated in the so-called “legend of the lost teeth.” In his lexicon of literary and scholarly history, Péter Bod (1712–1769) has recorded a suggestive but rather fictitious account of Matkó’s encounter with Sambar. According to Bod, these two figures engaged in a debate held before a board of lay judges, after they agreed that the defeated party would be executed by decapitation. Despite Sambar’s desperate efforts and tricks, the Calvinist Matkó was declared the winner in the dispute. However, prior to the execution of Sambar, Matkó, in gallant fashion, intervened convincing the judges that the sentence must be changed, and that instead of executing the Jesuit, they should order the public extraction of two of his front teeth. Bod observed that in the immediate aftermath of the donNew York: Verso, 2003); Peter Burke, Languages and Communities in Early Modern Europe, (Cambridge: University Press, 2004). 6 Unless otherwise stated, all translations are my own. Mátyás Sámbár, Három idvösseges kérdés [Three Salvation-Bringing Questions], (Nagyszombat/Trnava, 1661). 7 For further details regarding the history of the debate, see JenĘ Zoványi, “Sámbár Mátyás és Kis Imre hitvitái s az ezekkel egyidejĦ hitvitázó mĦvek,” Theológiai Szemle 1 (1925): 264-271; János Heltai and Réka Tasi, Tenger az igaz hitrül való, 275-278.

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event several pamphlets written against Sambar by his Calvinist rivals apostrophized the Jesuit as “Father toothless.”8 Although some dispute Matkó’s involvement in this confrontation and suggest that Samuel Lippai (b. 1622), an educated Calvinist with Presbyterian convictions, was the Calvinist protagonist, the story remains significant since it reflects the hostile relations between the Catholic and Protestant communities and the persecution of the Protestants during the 1670s.9 It is almost certain that eighteenth-century readers, and especially the annotators of Matkó’s text, would not have been oblivious to such tensions.

3. Two Texts, Two Readers So far I have outlined the contexts of the debate between Jesuits and Protestants. I will now examine the ways in which Matkó’s two texts were read and assimilated, as well as the process of their reception. Using the marginal entries added to them, I also hope to draw some conclusions about the act of reading, the profiles of readers, and the significance of the debate mediated by these printed texts.

3. 1. A Calvinist Text and Its Calvinist Reader Matkó’s first text Fövenyen épített ház romlása (The Collapse of a House Built on Sand) published in 1666 constituted, first and foremost, an answer to Sambar’s Három üdvösséges kérdés (Three Salvation-Bringing Questions) that had initially triggered the debate in 1661. Matkó’s book followed strictly and reflected upon the issues elaborated in the work of his Jesuit opponent. However, since Matkó was clearly determined to tailor his discourse to the kind of style that prevailed in the confessional polemics of his day, he could not avoid using a rather obscene vocabulary and imagery, which was surely detrimental to his text. Matkó’s first priority was to refute the Catholic charges of innovation and heretical teaching, and his argumentation rested upon three major theses: he claimed that the papist religion was counterfeit and nothing but an invention, he argued that the only true religion was the Calvinist one, and finally he stated that it was the papists and their corrupt religion which contradicted Scripture 8

Péter Bod, Magyar Athenas (Nagy-Szeben/Sibiu, 1766), 322. For further details, see Zsombor Tóth, “The Homiletics of Political Discourse: Martyrology as a (Re)Invented Tradition in the Paradigm of Early Modern Hungarian Calvinism,” in Whose Love of Which Country? Composite States, National Histories and Patriotic Discourses in Early Modern East Central Europe, ed. Balázs Trencsényi and Márton Zászkaliczky (Leiden–Boston: Brill, 2010), 545-568.

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and the true church (vera ecclesia) of the early Christians. It is clear from what has been said above about Sambar’s arguments that Matkó was here simply using the same and reversing them according to the Calvinist version of truth. Indeed, during the entire course of their almost decade-long quarrel, the parties would deploy each other’s arguments but never really listen to each other. This was because theirs was an inveterate ideological fight over the orthodoxy of the teaching and the validity of church and religion. This general predisposition was also reflected in the individual contributions of other participants in the debate. Matkó used a number of particular techniques with which to discredit Sambar and the Catholic tradition. One of these was to quote Catholic authors or documents produced by the Catholic Church, take them out of their original context, and reveal their problematic aspects, inconsistencies, and contradictions. For instance, Matkó claimed that the Catholic Church’s absolute prohibition of clerical marriage did more damage than good, as it would nurture the temptation to commit sexual sins. Furthermore, he insisted, the papists themselves were fully aware of this danger, as they had edited and published a book containing clearly established penalties for these types of sins, the Taxe Cancellarie apostolice.10 According to Matkó, this Catholic legislation provided that a clergyman who had sexual intercourse with somebody’s wife in the church was to be absolved of this sin after having paid six pennies. Worse still, any cleric who engaged in sexual intercourse with his mother or any other family member or relative, would be absolved simply by paying five pennies. Matkó concluded by suggesting that the Catholic Church provided absolution from sins at an excellent price affordable to everyone.11 One of the owners of the book, most likely a Calvinist man, Sámuel Borosnyai, filled up several pages with annotations. The book, it seems, came into his possession in 1723.12 It is difficult to establish in any detail 10

Taxe Ca(n)cellarie apostolice & taxae sacre penite(n)tiarie itidƝ ap(osto)lice. Venundantur Parisiis i(n) vico sancti Jacobi ad crucem ligneam prope Sacellum Diui Iuonis per Tossanu(m) Denis bibliopolam (n.p., 1520). 11 Matkó, Fövenyen épített, 12-13. 12 The first owner of the book, István Enyedi (1659–1714), was an acclaimed intellectual of his age. After he had studied in Leiden, he served as a Calvinist pastor in different places in Transylvania, and then became professor of theology at the Calvinist College of Aiud. He gave the book as a gift to Mihály Nagyborosnyai, a choirmaster at the parish of Baia Mare, on 28 August 1698. The last (known) owner of the book, Sámuel Nagyborosnyai, was either a family member or a relative of the aforementioned Mihály, and recorded that the book came into his possession in 1723: “Ab Anno 1723 birom ezt a könyvet N. Borosnyai Sámuel.” (This book entered my possession in 1723.) This information is recorded on the recto of the book cover.

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the profile of the Calvinist annotator because of the lack of data there is available regarding his life and education. However, there does exist some very basic information which suggests that he was a descendant of a Calvinist family from the Szeklerland in Transylvania. Moreover, his family background reveals remarkable connections to the Calvinist literate and clerical elite of the age.13 It appears too that Borosnyai studied at the Calvinist College of Aiud,14 which used to be the most prestigious Calvinist educational institute in Transylvania during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Borosnyai’s notes in his copy of Fövenyen épített ház romlása reflect his reading and comprehension of Matkó’s arguments. Apart from a couple of Latin sentences, the majority of which reproduce the popular wisdom of the age as rooted in the classics taught at the Calvinist colleges of the early eighteenth century, the dominant language of the marginal notes was Hungarian. In the part where Matkó had argued that the papist religion contradicted Scripture so profoundly that its head and members had become demented, Borosnyai added a short Latin comment: “M: Amisso capite, amissa sunt membra” (If the head is lost, so are the limbs).15 Similarly, when Matkó concluded his book with the usually accepted Latin idiom “Soli Deo Gloria idolis ignominia,” the annotator inserted some Latin and Hungarian set phrases. His marginal note reads as follows: M: In morte alterius Spem Tu tibi ponere noli. Mind életemben mind halálomban nyereségem a’ Kristus! (Do not put your hope in death of other men. My reward is Christ, whether I live or die.)16

When Matkó’s narrative shifted to a general evaluation of the Calvinists as a confessional community, Borosnyai’s annotations appear to agree with Matkó. For instance, when Matkó discussed the questionable Catholic practice according to which only educated clerics were allowed to read the Bible, Borosnyai added a remark that seemed to concur with this sentiment: “M: Nemis ugy mint a’ Pápisták!” (The papists are not to be followed in this!)”17 Unintentionally based on the anthropological opposition 13

JenĘ Zoványi and Sándor Ladányi, eds., Magyarországi protestáns egyháztörténeti lexikon (Budapest: A Magyarországi Református Egyház Zsinati Irodájának Sajtóosztálya, 1997), 91-92. 14 Hung. Nagyegyed, Germ. Straßburg am Mieresch, Lat. Egidiopolis. 15 Matkó, Fövenyen épített, 140. To indicate that the quoted text was recorded as a marginal note, I constantly put the letter M at the beginning of the quotation. 16 Matkó, Fövenyen épített, 146. 17 Ibid., 145.

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of normality versus deviance, Matkó made a clear-cut delineation between the imagined communities of “we” (the normal, the Calvinists) versus “they” (the deviants, the papists). Borosnyai too subscribed to this binary opposition, and his annotations evince a wholehearted support of Matkó and his theological claims. That was the moment when this otherwise relatively aloof annotator exhibited profound emotion. While Matkó relentlessly insisted that the papists had totally misinterpreted the Last Supper and that their teaching utterly contradicted Scripture, Borosnyai, palpably upset by this, added the emphatically disparaging comment: “M: Oh! átkozott vallás!” (Oh, damned religion, indeed!)18 Since Matkó continued to articulate his argument along the same line, Borosnyai probably found it difficult to control his emotions. Indeed, on one occasion he was unable to dominate himself and, completely out of keeping with his previous annotations, adopted Matkó’s abusive style. When reading the passage in which Matkó derided the real presence of Christ in the consecrated bread and evoked the often-recalled image of backward Catholic people devouring Jesus’s body, Borosnyai could not resist the opportunity to interject with his own comments: “M: tsontostol börestöl,” (eat up everything, the bones and the skin as well).19 Moreover, as he read through Matkó’s argumentation about the problematic origin of the Catholic Mass, he displayed a similar attitude. Matkó had invited his Catholic fellows to turn to Sambar to inquire about the Mass. He then added that the Mass was a pure invention, referenced neither in the Epistles nor in the Gospels. Matkó concluded by saying: “Ti találtátok s’ tiétek legyen bár.” (It is your invention, keep it exclusively for yourself.)20 Borosnyai intervened: “M: ’s jutalmátis vegyétek.” (For you will certainly be rewarded for it.)21 In the final part of his text, Matkó formulated a warning about the imminent Last Judgement and Divine Justice, quoting from the book of Revelation (18:4-5, 19-20). The passage reads as follows: And I heard another voice from heaven, saying, Come out of her [i.e., Babylon], my people, that ye be not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues. For her sins have reached unto heaven, and God hath remembered her iniquities. . . . And they cast dust on their heads, and cried, weeping and wailing, saying, Alas, alas, that great city, wherein were made rich all that had ships in the sea by reason of her costliness! for 18

Ibid., 136. Ibid. 20 Ibid. 21 Ibid., 137. 19

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Chapter Thirteen in one hour is she made desolate. Rejoice over her, thou heaven, and ye holy apostles and prophets; for God hath avenged you on her. 22

On this occasion, Borosnyai acclaimed Matkó’s warning with a brisk comment: “M: ’s jobbanis meg bünteti az utolsó IdĘben. Amen.” (They will surely be punished at the end of time! Amen!)23 It is almost certain that Borosnyai, as much as he agreed with Matkó and his stance on both the Calvinist and Catholic religion and church, was not attracted to his graphic, vulgar, and provocative discourse. Borosnyai appears to have used the semi-private space24 of the margins of a printed book to establish himself as a pious believer. Borosnyai used these annotations as a means to endorse the Calvinist teaching exhibited in Matkó’s argumentation and position himself on the “right” side (as he saw it), that is, to represent himself as loyal to the vera ecclesia, and as a constant believer of the vera religio (that is, Calvinism). Instead of enthusiastically embracing Matkó’s provocative discourse, he preferred to depict himself as a devout and true Christian, who was not willing to engage in any kind of religious debate. It appears that fashioning a pious self was more important to him than prevailing over an imaginary enemy belonging to a different confession.

3. 2. A Calvinist Text and Its Catholic Reader Thus far, I have considered how a Calvinist reader made use of Matkó’s text. I will now turn my attention to a Catholic reader and his annotations. Matkó’s second book, which dwelt upon many of the same issues, was

22 When quoting the Bible, I rely on King James Version, available online at http: //www.biblestudytools.com/kjv/revelation/18.html. 23 Matkó, Fövenyen épített, 146: “Intés, Apoc. 18. v. 4 Fussatok-ki Babylonbol én népem, és ne legyetek részesek az Ę bĦneiben, hogy az Ę bĦntetéseivel megne büntettessetek, vers. 5. mert az Ę bünei meggyĦlvén szintén az égig hatottanak, és megemlekezett az Isten az Ę gonosságiról, v.19. Jaj, jaj ama nagy Város &c. egy orában el-pusztult, v. 20. Örülly annak veszedelmén meny, és Szent Apostolok és Propheták. Mert az Isten meg-büntette a’ Babylont ti érettetek valo boszszu-állásban.” 24 The term “semi-private space” refers to the twofold character of annotations. They are seemingly the reflections of a private act of assimilating a text, yet their message is addressed to the future readers or owners of the same text. Therefore the private act of reading, complemented by annotations, involves a certain publicity as well, therefore the space on a page which contains marginal notes is referred to as a semi-private space or dimension.

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also intended to be an answer to a work published by Sambar in 1667.25 However, following his involvement in the prolonged controversy between Jesuits and Protestants, Matkó had developed his own violent, vulgar, and trivial discourse which is even more striking in this second work. The emotional, moral, and political issues had so overwhelmingly prevailed in this debate that any attempt to find a solution in a purely theological way seemed impossible. Each party had been determined to prevail in everything and gain support from everybody, and so these texts written in response to each other, gave rise to a discourse that was capable of appealing to an extremely wide audience, both literate and illiterate. In addition, Matkó also relied on what Scribner has defined as the “hybridization of media,”26 a phenomenon that aims to combine texts and images: On the front of his book, Matkó arranged for there to appear a small but vivid illustration which depicted a Jesuit kneading stinky mud and forming it into little loaves, whilst two miners are determined to hit him with their pickaxes. Furthermore, the image contains short inscriptions, thus conveying the idea of a conversation in which one of the miners urges the Jesuit to work harder and the other one simply bullies him. This imagery seemed to suggest that Sambar’s misguided knowledge could not resist Matkó’s hacking force.27 This strong opening image, as if alluding to the rough-spoken discourse of the text, had probably made it very clear to both its Calvinist and Catholic readers how Matkó intended to respond to Sambar’s challenge. However, Matkó felt the need to downplay his “colourful” lexicon, for he may well have sensed the deniable æsthetic and moral value of his discourse.28 He explicitly exculpated himself by claiming that the base nature of his vocabulary was due to the annoying character of his Jesuit opponent’s sophistry: Should you come across passages phrased more rudely than they ought to be—Sibi imputet Sambar [let Sambar ascribe this to himself]—may God

25

Mátyás Sámbár, A három idvösséges Kérdésre Luther és Calvinista Tanitók mint felelnek? ugy, a’ mint Matkó István mongya, fol. 128. X, ut Toek. Imé azért Matkó Hazugságinak megtorkollása, Es Posaházi Mocskainak megtapodása [How did the Lutheran and Calvinist priests answer the three salvation-bringing questions?] (Kassa/Košice, 1667). 26 Robert W. Scribner, For the Sake of Simple Folk: Popular Propaganda for the German Reformation (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994), xv. 27 See Fig. 4-1 in chapter four. 28 In contrast to his earlier use of insulting language, Matkó became a gifted translator of English Puritan devotional literature towards the end of his life.

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It is almost certain that Matkó’s Calvinist readership did not feel offended by his language. Indeed, some of them probably found pleasure or satisfaction in the bombastic stance taken against the Catholic Church. Still, Matkó did not convince all. There was someone who took the tenor of his language very personally, and was deeply offended by it. A Catholic reader, who unfortunately has left no written trace or any information concerning his real identity, became an anonymous but trenchant annotator, who not only responded using Matkó’s same strident style, but was also determined to totally discredit the Calvinist controversialist. Consequently, the Catholic annotator, who is thought to have been operating in the early eighteenth century, unleashed in his numerous marginalia a raging anger nurtured by confessional frenzy. When Matkó formulated his so-called apology to his readership, he was shrewd enough to blame Sambar; however, the Catholic reader pounced on this and claimed in a similar style: M: You started the fight, not Sambar. For he is a godly man, you are a godless person. While you are swearing, Sambar is praising God. You threw up pieces of your stinking knowledge, but Sambar has taught the truth.30

The annotator did not hold back in his criticism of Matkó. Noticeably too, the annotator included claims that Matkó was a “mad dog,” a “rapacious wolf,” and a “stinking goat,” charges that are in no way organically connected to the passages of the text or the theological argumentation expressed in it.31 In fact, the use of this particular symbolism was not at all accidental; it was rooted in popular culture and imagination associated with subversion and the cultural otherness of a rival confessional community. The biblical symbols of the lamb and the wolf, and sometimes also the symbol of the pastor, had been the ones perhaps most frequently used to describe the conditions of Reformation and Counter-Reformation

29 Matkó, Bányászcsákány, A3r: “Ha hol penig daraboskábban esett, hogy sem mint kellet vólna, Sibi imputet Sámbár, s-bocsássa-meg az Ur isten, mert én-is ember vagyok. Te-is K. Olv. szánt szándékos véteknek ne tulajdonics.” 30 Ibid., A3r-A3v: “M: Te nyitottad fel szájadot a morgásra nem Sámbár. Sámbár istenfélĘ volt te Istentelen Te Matko szitkozodo Sámbár Istent dicsero. Te Matko okadasz moslékot Sámbár tanit Igasságot.” 31 Ibid., 1 and 5.

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Europe, especially the instances of religious persecution, forced migration, and confessionally motivated fighting. The Catholic reader persisted with this belligerent discourse throughout the consecutive pages of the entire book. Turning his attention to one of the passages in which Matkó contradicted Sambar and declared that “M: nem Refutatio ez hanem folotte rut mocskolodás” (this is not a refutation, but a scandalous abuse),32 the anonymous Catholic interjected to side with Sambar: “M: Nem csak hibával, hanem káromkodással tellyes Mázolásod.” (Your writing is full of mistakes and contains nothing but swearing and profanities.)33 In addition, he invited Matkó to “eat fæces” in a note he recorded on the same page.34 Slightly modified, this latter motive resurfaced in his comment pertaining to the concluding part of Matkó’s text: “M: Fald be te Matko a mit az agár futva elhullat.” (Matkó, you should eat what a dog defecates!)35 Finally, when Matkó drew an analogy between a mad dog and Sambar’s theological argumentation, which he considered ferocious but wholly beside the point, the Catholic annotator wrote the following statement in the margin: “M: Sámbár okos mint kigyo es szelid galamb volt Matko ördög Attyától született.” (Sambar was as clever as a snake and as mild as a dove whereas Matkó was begotten by the devil himself.)36 The Catholic reader obviously exerted much effort in denigrating Matkó. By calling Matkó a diabolical offspring, the anonymous Catholic made use of a fundamental stereotype then widely associated with the image of Protestantism. In fact, Luther too was considered by his adversaries to be an offspring of the devil. The note of Matkó’s anonymous reader indicates that the local Catholics preserved in their collective memory this diabolical image of the “heretic.”37 Consequently, when the Catholic annotator declared Matkó to have been “begotten by the devil himself,” he was in fact equating Matkó with Luther, the archetype of the heretical character. Perhaps he found inspiration for this in the Catholic popular culture’s oral traditions, and possibly too in the writings of the most important agent of Counter-Reformation in the Hungarian Kingdom, Cardinal Peter Pázmány (1570–1637), who espoused similar sentiments: 32

Ibid., A2r. Ibid., A3r. 34 Ibid., 9. 35 Ibid., 190. 36 Ibid., 110. 37 According to Scribner, early modern popular culture seriously promoted this type of prejudice, especially with regard to illiterate people. See Scribner, For the Sake of Simple Folk, 59-94. 33

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It is noteworthy that the Catholic annotator devoted his marginalia to attacking Matkó who was already dead by then. Yet, the Catholic reader’s determination to refute Matkó and discredit not only his arguments but also his moral integrity constitutes an example of deep confessional bias. The Catholic annotator, as opposed to the aforementioned Calvinist one, demonstrated no intention whatsoever to fashion a genuine Catholic self, but rather confined himself to a one-sided approach. Hence, the anonymous Catholic’s discourse was built upon absolute values, good and bad, true and false, which were simplistically applied to the confessional situation of his time. At the root of such antithetical thinking lay his confessional bias and the predisposition to perceive and understand reality from the narrow-minded perspective of a tradition arbitrarily declared normal as opposed to any other tradition. However, just like the Calvinist annotator, the Catholic did not provide any relevant theological comment, and consequently his imaginary debate remained limited to expressing emotions, stereotypes, and prejudice.

4. Reading Culture and the Anthropology of the Book In the sections above, I have discussed how a Calvinist and a Catholic reader made use of a printed text by Matkó. Now their respective reading experiences will be contextualized and considered from the point of view of historical anthropology. Both readers, despite their different treatment of the texts, acted in a similar way insofar as they considered the act of reading a utilitarian activity which naturally led to writing, and in their case, the production of annotations.39 Their treatment of the texts rein38

Péter Pázmány, Hodoegus, Igazságra vezérlĘ Kalauz (Pozsony/Bratislava, 1637), 200: “Azt olvasom Luther felĘl, hogy nem mindenestül természet folyása-szerént született, hanem Ördög bagzott Lídércz-módgyára az Anyával. Ezt újomból nem szoptam: hanem Tíz vagy töb FĘ tudós embereket nevezhetek, kik-közzĦl némelyek, még éltében Luther-nek ezt szemére hánták.” 39 Both of them clearly followed early modern reading habits: it was quite common that early modern readers added marginalia to texts they had read, thereby creating strong connections between the printed texts, their annotations, and their own texts, which might be produced at a later time. See Jennifer Richards and Fred Schurink, “The Textuality and Materiality of Reading in Early Modern England,” Huntington Library Quarterly 73, no. 3 (2010): 354.

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forces the observation that reading in the early modern era was “a personal process of making a book meaningful.”40 They seemed to regard the printed books as their exclusive possessions and considered it legitimate to fashion themselves as authors who were entitled to re-articulate the text and alter its content with the result that it would be transformed into a hybrid medium.41 Hence the two books in the hands of their Calvinist and Catholic owners and readers functioned as biographical objects.42 Scholars in the discipline of anthropology have successfully revealed how personal objects could be used as means of conjuring up the memory of an individual.43 Both annotators utilized their books as personal possessions through which to construct a self, to define the main attributes of that self and, most importantly, to impose its values as a standard of normality. In this particular context, their appropriative reading, as testified by their annotations, became the equivalent of a process defined as “the narrative creation of the self through the vehicle of an object.”44 Recent findings published in secondary literature on early modern scribal habits and scribal publicity suggest that early modern annotations could have functioned as graffiti.45 Therefore, handwritten notes recorded on the blank pages of a printed book could have produced a similar effect to that caused by early modern inscriptions displayed on walls, and as such possibly influenced public opinion.46 Furthermore, there was a direct link between scribal publication and polemical literature as the latter might 40

William H. Sherman, Used Books: Marking Readers in Renaissance England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2008), 51. 41 I use the term of Robert W. Scribner who employs it to refer to the combination of images and texts in printed material. In the cases discussed in this essay, the handwritten annotations added to the original printed text may have had a similar function. See footnote 26. 42 Janet Hoskins, Biographical Objects: How Things Tell the Stories of People’s Lives (New York and London: Routledge, 1998). 43 Hoskins, Biographical Objects, 21. 44 Ibid., 21-22. 45 Juliet Fleming, Graffiti and the Writing Arts of Early Modern England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001). Fleming, for instance, described in detail a particular genre of graffiti—namely, the graffiti applied to the walls of medieval and Renaissance churches. See Juliet Fleming, “Wounded Walls: Graffiti, Grammatology, and the Age of Shakespeare,” Criticism 39, no. 1 (1997): 3. Equally remarkable are the early modern graffiti preserved on the walls of the Tower of London. See Ruth Ahnert, The Rise of Prison Literature in the Sixteenth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 33-48. 46 Jason Scott-Warren, “Reading Graffiti in the Early Modern Book,” Huntington Library Quarterly 73, no. 3 (2010): 378.

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have been circulated either in the form of handwritten copies of a printed original or in the form of printed texts containing profuse handwritten annotations.47 In addition, the so called “disputative annotation” used to be one of the most common types of marginalia added to texts containing religious polemic.48 Annotations, and in particular marginalia, could certainly count as graffiti, since they represented, as Fleming has put it, “the most paradigmatic instance, I was here.”49 Fleming’s suggestion that early modern graffiti always captured a relation between names, places, and persons seems applicable also to marginalia: when early modern readers recorded their thoughts in annotations, no matter what kind of stylistic or æsthetical standards they imitated or failed to imitate, they transformed the act of reading and writing into some kind of public performance. Their treating a book’s printed page as a kind of public space to announce a message or to display an identity seems to mirror the act of producing graffiti. In contrast to print publicity, scribal publicity may well have appeared less spectacular, yet it certainly retained the function of publishing. A written entry in a printed text that was available only for family members or the production of a manuscript that circulated exclusively within a restricted community, both arguably qualified as “publishing.” Despite the fact that the act of scribal publishing, performed in a semi-private space, was unable to produce such an impact as the printed media, it still proved to be a remarkable source for self-fashioning in early modern literacy. Though research into how early modern polemical theological patterns of thought influenced non-theological genres of literature is indeed necessary, I suggest we should also pay attention to a more basic phenomenon in the development of early modern literacy and literature—namely, the transition from scribal publicity to print publicity, and sometimes vice versa. When analysing marginalia, one can easily gain the impression that 47

David Hall, “Scribal Publication in Seventeenth-Century New England: An Introduction and a Checklist,” Proceedings of the American Antiquarian Society 96 (2006): 43; James Carley, “Religious controversy and Marginalia: Pierfrancesco di Piero Bardi, Thomas Wakefield, and Their Books,” Transactions of the Cambridge Bibliographical Society 12, no. 3 (2002): 229. 48 Sherman, Used Books, 10 and 17. 49 Fleming, Graffiti and the Writing Arts, 72: “Using its own material status to signal and elaborate its recurrent themes of signature, death and the end of days, and their common tropes of flowers, bodies, wounds, shadows, farewells and graves, Tudor wall-writing was thus able to embrace and acknowledge the complex representational pleasures and anxieties that it found contained in even the graffito’s most simple and paradigmatic instance, I was here.”

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during the process of discerning the meaning of a text the reader felt an urge to immediately comment on it and express his opinion, that is, to write annotations. This is, in fact, a certain transition from scribal publicity to print publicity50 and comprises an anthropological dimension too, something that, according to Jason Scott-Warren, should be defined as “the anthropology of the book.” He suggests that such anthropology would aspire to reconstruct the place of the book in the changing textures of personal, social, material life, showing how books found their place in the fashioning of individual identities, in the negotiation of relationships, and in encounters with the world of things.51

5. Conclusion The annotations discussed in this essay from the perspective of historical anthropology help reinforce the claim that early modern religious controversy functioned as a vehicle for community building since it relied on the opposition of normality versus aberration. Both the appeal of the public debate and the popularity of a printed polemical text consisted in their particular function of enabling the reader or participant to define and fashion a confessional identity according to collective standards of normality. This function of self-identification, at least in the case of those untrained in theology, was even intensified by the fact that polemical discourse made it possible for the readers or participants to back up their identity with a predominantly theological argumentation. Assuming an identity and reinforcing links of loyalty to a confessional community, which was regarded as the “normal” one, became more important than the purely theological endeavour to find the ultimate truth. The religious controversy constituted an opportunity to create an imagined community and express loyalty towards it; it served not only to endorse a particular sense of identity but also to establish that as normative. The stakes therefore went well beyond the simple act of finding or announcing a victor in the controversy. Finally, it is possible to conclude that the entire process itself represented an opportunity for a large number of early modern people to act either as the audience of a debate or as the readers of emerging polemical texts.

50 51

Ahnert, The Rise of Prison Literature, 145. Scott-Warren, “Reading Graffiti,” 380.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN POLEMICS IN COMMENTARIES IN CZECH BIBLE READINGS JIěÍ M. HAVLÍK

By putting emphasis on “Scripture alone” (sola scriptura), the Reformation formulated the need to read the Bible in vernacular languages. Arguments for and against new denominations thus drew on the Bible itself.1 Missionaries, preachers, and exegetes were in this respect supported by the Council of Trent’s decrees which confirmed the Catholic biblical canon and determined the basic course for future exegesis. The Council decided that the Bible readings for the people should always be accompanied by explanatory commentaries approved by the church.2 In this respect, however, Reformed churches were in many countries ahead of the Catholic Church. This essay focuses on the explanatory commentaries in Czech Bible translations in the early modern period. The Czech Bible translators traditionally based their work on earlier translations, from which they also drew inspiration for the commentaries they attached to the biblical text. Within the Czech context, the most important biblical translations included the six-volume Kralice Bible published between 1579 and 1594 (hereafter This article was written within the project “Sources, Forms, and Functions of Monastic Historiography of the Early Modern Period in the Bohemian Lands.” (GA ýR 14–05167S) The polemical commentaries quoted in this essay were translated from Czech into English. In the case of direct quotations from the Bible, the King James Bible was used. 1 Henning Graf von Reventlow, Epochen der Bibelauslegung, Band III.: Renaissance, Reformation, Humanismus (München: C. H. Beck, 1997). 2 See “Sessio IV., Decretum secundum: Recipitur Vulgata editio Bibliae praescribiturque modus interpretandi sacram Scripturam etc.,” in Conciliorum oecumenicorum generaliumque decreta: editio critica. 3, The Oecumenical Councils of the Roman Catholic Church, III. Volume: From Trent to Vatican II (1545–1965), ed. Guiseppe Alberigo, Alberto Melloni, and Klaus Ganzer (Turnhout: Brepols, 2010), 16-17.

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referred to as BK)3 and the three-volume St Wenceslas Bible produced between 1677 and 1715 (BsV).4 Both include a large amount of different types of commentaries and notes. This essay primarily deals with the St Wenceslas Bible in which the Czech polemical commentary was established as a literary genre. A special type of textual pattern was created here which formally departed from marginal notes presented in the six volumes of the Kralice Bible. The term “polemical commentary” is used in my essay to denote a commentary that either explicitly or covertly reacted to some other biblical exposition. Such commentaries refer, albeit usually in an indirect manner, to opposing or alternative expositions against which they take a negative stand. They usually start with contradictory formulations, such as “This place in the Acts of the Apostles does not contradict the teachings of Christ . . . In addition, the Apostle did not say that, etc.”5 The authors of opposing opinions and interpretations are either described in neutral terms like others (jiní)6 and some (nČkteĜí) in the case of BK, and non-Catholics 3

Mirjam Bohatcová, “Die tschechischen gedruckten Bibeln des 15. bis 18. Jahrhunderts,” in Kralitzer Bibel/Kralická bible: Kommentare, Biblia Slavica I/3, ed. Hans Rothe and Friedrich Scholz (Paderborn–München–Wien–Zürich: Ferdinand Schöningh, 1995), 1-182; Original edition: Bible kralická šestidílná, 6 vols. (Kralice: Tiskárna Jednoty bratrské, 1579–1594); Facsimile: Kralitzer Bibel/Kralická bible, 7 vols.; Modern critical edition: Bible kralická šestidílná, Kompletní vydání s pĤvodními poznámkami, ed. Robert Dittman and JiĜí Just (Praha: ýeská biblická spoleþnost, 2014). Quoted from the modern critical edition. Hereinafter, the Kralice Bible is abbreviated as BK. For a general overview of the history of Czech biblical translation, see Vladimír Kyas: ýeská bible v dČjinách národního písemnictví [Czech Bible in the History of National Literature], (Praha: Vyšehrad, 1997). 4 Original edition: Bible svatováclavská (Praha: DČdictví sv. Václava, 1677–1715). Second edition was (re)printed in 1769–1771. Facsimile: Svatováclavská bible/St.Wenzels-Bibel, Biblia Slavica I/4, ed. Hans Rothe and Friedrich Scholz (Paderborn–München–Wien–Zürich: Ferdinand Schöningh, 2001). No modern critical edition is available. Throughout this essay the St Wenceslas Bible is quoted from the facsimile edition. It is here abbreviated as follows: BsV I (The New Testament), BsV II (The Prophets and The Books of the Maccabees), BsV III (The Old Testament). 5 BK, p. 2485: “Nic pak tento skutek ApoštolĤ proti uþení Krystovu neþelí, . . . Nadto, Apoštol neĜekl toho . . .” 6 This term (in Czech, jiní) has been interpreted in a small sample of the New Testament of the Kralice Bible by Robert Dittmann, “Odkaz Jiní v poznámkovém aparátu Nového zákona Kralické bible šestidílné,” Historie–Otázky–Problémy 5, no. 2 (2013): 151-158. The term “jiní” also refers to the authors, translations, and interpretations with which the Kralice Bible does not explicitly polemicize but regards them as alternative versions or interpretations.

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(nekatoliþtí) and members of a church community (zborníci) in the commentaries of BsV, or else they are addressed by offensive epithets, such as Antichrist (Antikryst) and false Christs (falešní Krystové) in BK, and addled people (zmotaní lidé), heretics (kacíĜi), and stupefied sectarians (omámení sektáĜi) in BsV. According to current scholarship, the most fruitful Bible in this respect is the St Wenceslas Bible, the authors of which deliberately defined themselves against non-Catholic expositions by directing their invectives at the Kralice Bible. However, in 1786, the Catholic priest František Faustin Procházka (1749–1809) made it clear in the preface to his translation of the New Testament that he distanced himself from the use of polemical commentaries. Not surprisingly, his “polemic” was now targeted at the St Wenceslas Bible. The Kralice Bible was the result of translation projects over many years on the part of the members of the Unity of Brethren in the second half of the sixteenth century and towards its end.7 At that time, it was the most significant product in the field of Czech Bible translation. Shortly after the costly publication of the original six-volume printed edition, the Brothers removed most of the commentaries and edited their translation again, this time in a single volume. This was the version that was most widely disseminated among believers and different denominations. However, probably the most widespread edition of this Bible, the one issued in 1613, enjoyed only a short period of unhampered circulation due to unfavourable changes in the Czech political situation. After the rebellion of the Czech estates was quashed in the Battle of White Mountain on 8 November 1620, a number of laws were gradually issued which banished all nonRoman Catholic priests, and later the nobility, from the territory of Bohemia and Moravia; they also prohibited publication, dissemination, and possession of non-Roman Catholic books. Some of these laws were incorporated into the Renewed Land Order of 1627. The most important Czech translation of the Bible, together with other non-Catholic publications, therefore began to appear on the lists of forbidden books. The best known Czech index of banned books, Clavis haeresim claudens et aperiens (A key to lock and unlock heresies) by Antonín Koniáš, SJ (1691–1760), listed the six volumes of the Kralice Bible under the heading Zákony [které] trpení a zanechaní býti nemaji (Codes [that] shall not be tolerated nor preserved), whereas other Czech translations—for example, the Melantrich Bible (1549)8 and the Severýn Bible (1529)—were recommended 7

Robert Dittmann, Dynamika textu Kralické bible v þeské pĜekladatelské tradici (Olomouc: Refugium Velehrad-Roma, 2012). 8 This was a mistake, however. The version referred to was actually the VeleslavínMelantrich Bible published in 1613.

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only for revision.9 From 1627 onwards, the only creed allowed in the territory of Bohemia and Moravia10 was the Roman Catholic one. This remained the case until 1781 when Emperor Joseph II’s Patent of Toleration also permitted the free exercise of the Greek Orthodox, Lutheran, and Calvinist religions. Bohemian provincial law together with the Roman indexes of banned and non-recommended books unwittingly created a situation in the territory of Bohemia and Moravia in which none of the existing Czech translations of the Bible were actually authorized. Yet, at the same time, various Bible translations—mainly the Veleslavín-Melantrich Bible and the Kralice Bible (both published in 1613)—had a broad readership and, according to the documents of the Archiepiscopal Consistory in Prague, were used even by Catholic priests.11 Prague’s archbishop Jan Lohelius (1549–1622) attempted to solve this situation at the beginning of the 1620s by means of a lectionary containing Sunday pericopes. Besides the pericopes, the lectionary also provided instructions on how the sermon should be delivered. In addition, it contained the people’s responses during the liturgy of the word, as well as several songs, litanies, and prayers. The aims of the St Wenceslas Bible project were different, however. In 1669 Matthäus Ferdinand Sobek von Bilenberk (1618–1675) asked the Provincial of the Czech Jesuit Province, Daniel Krupsky (ca. 1620–1672), for two priests who would revise the Czech translation, and in the event that it did not please the Catholic Church, edit it.12 This task was entrusted to Georgius

9

Antonín Koniáš, Clavis haeresim claudens et aperiens, Klíþ kacíĜské bludy k rozeznání otvírajicí, k vykoĜenČní zamítajicí (Hradec Králové: Václav Jan Tybély, 1729), 10-12. 10 The Renewed Land Order did not apply to Silesia. The name “Lands of the Bohemian Crown” is therefore not used in this essay as this would also include Silesia. 11 This practice did not cease even after the St Wenceslas Bible was published, no matter how hard the Consistory tried to disseminate the New Testament of the St Wenceslas Bible among both newly ordained priests and well-established parishes. The National Archives of the Czech Republic in Prague (further referred to as NA ýR), the Archives of the Prague Archbishopric Fund (further referred to as APA I.), Kniha patentĤ [The Book of Patents] 1662–1710, call number B 20/1b, inv. no. 1470. JiĜí M. Havlík, “Polemika v komentáĜích. Bible svatováclavská, její þtenáĜi a Šestidílka” [Polemics in Commentaries. The St Wenceslas Bible, its readership and the six-volume Kralice Bible], Historie–Otázky–Problémy 5, no. 2 (2013): 83-93. 12 Joannes Miller, Historia provinciae Bohemiae Societatis Iesu ab anno 1555 usque ad annum 1723. Liber X., manuscript, 18th c., perhaps 1723, National Library Prague, call number: XXIII C 104, p. 3497: “A P. Provinciali Bohemiae SJ anno 1669. petivit, qui ea [i.e., Biblia idiomate Bohemico] reviderent, et siquid non esset satis catholicum,

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Constantius (1607–1673)13 and Matthias Wenceslaus Steyer (1630– 1692).14 The result of their efforts over a five-year period was a translation of all the New Testament books together with the production of extensive commentaries. The editing work on the translation was already completed by late April 1675. At exactly that time M. F. Sobek died. It is therefore uncertain whether he knew that the editing had finished. On account of the delays that accompanied the accession and enthronement of the new Archbishop Johann Fridrich von Waldstein (1642–1694), the new translation to which he gave his approval was not published until 1677. The majority of the commentaries in the New Testament were probably written by Steyer. This prolific translator, preacher, editor, and compiler admitted that two of his other works—the Kancionál þeský (Czech hymnal)15 and the Postila katolická (Catholic postil)16—were also produced as part of an archiepiscopal initiative. The primary aim of all these projects was to replace the still commonly disseminated non-Catholic biblical translations, hymnals, and postils. In all these projects we can thus trace the efforts not only to satisfy the demand for books, but also to provide priests with suitable Czech sources for liturgy, catechesis, and polemics against other denominations. Seen from a longer perspective, it becomes evident that these were not actually separate projects but rather constituted a single one— namely, cultural re-Catholicization. The Roman missal was adjusted in accordance with the needs of the diocese and at the same time collections of biographies of saints were published. However, it will take a long time before we can see the advance of cultural re-Catholicization in Bohemia and Moravia as a continuous process, of which the St Wenceslas Bible was also part. By 1692 at the latest, the Old Testament was being prepared for publication, again by Steyer; after his death, Joannes Barner (1643–1708)17 took over.18 It was published in two volumes in 1715, and consecrated by emendarent.” OndĜej Koupil, “Nový zákon tzv. Svatováclavské bible (1677),” Historie–Otázky–Problémy 5, no. 2 (2013): 95-106. 13 In Czech scholarship referred to as JiĜí Konstanc. See http://reholnici.hiu.cas.cz/katalog/l.dll?hal~1000101382. 14 In Czech scholarship referred to as MatČj Václav Štajer, or Šteyer. See http://reholnici.hiu.cas.cz/katalog/l.dll?hal~1000103591. 15 MatČj W. Steyer, Kancionál þeský (Praha: JiĜí ýernoch, 1683), and many further editions. 16 MatČj W. Steyer, Postila katolická (Praha: Jezuitská tiskárna [Jesuit printing house], 1691), and many further editions. 17 Jan Barner; See http://reholnici.hiu.cas.cz/katalog/l.dll?hal~1000117634. 18 The issue of the Old Testament translation appears in the correspondence between the Jesuit General Curia in Rome and the Czech Province as early as 1691. See the

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the new archbishop Franz Ferdinand von Kuenburg (1651–1731).19 It is almost certain that Joannes Barner did not complete the work either, but there currently exists no information about who assumed the task afterwards. It seems likely that Constantius, Steyer, and Barner worked more like editors and a number of so far unknown members of the Czech Jesuit Province participated in the process as well. As for the biblical commentaries written by Jesuits, an important role was played by Juan Maldonado, SJ (1533–1583). He had mastered both classical and oriental languages, and he taught at Collège de Clermont in Paris. Pope Gregory XIII (1502–1585) charged him to work on a new edition of the Greek Septuagint and on a revision of the Vulgate. However, soon afterwards he died in Rome, and this task was completed by others decades later.20 Subsequent popes also appointed new committees, and the results of their work were published under Pope Clement VIII (1536– 1605) in 1592, bearing the title The Sixto-Clementine Vulgate.21 The creators of the St Wenceslas Bible worked with other sources as well. They used in their work the material set out in both the Biblia Magna22 and the Biblia Maxima.23 Both these editions include the Latin text of the SixtoClementine Vulgate corrected according to oriental translations (for example, the Syrian Peshitta). The biblical text is here accompanied by critical notes and commentaries by Nicolaus de Lyra, OFM (1270–1349), Jean de

letters of the Superior General to M. W. Steyer and J. de Waldt dated 8 September and 3 November 1691, Archivum Romanum Societatis Jesu, Rome, call number: Boh 5/1, ff. 90r–v and 94r. On 15 December 1692, Archbishop Johann Friedrich von Waldstein issued instructions that the work of translation should be commenced with the financial support of his endowment he had made for the publishing house of the St Wenceslaus Heritage. NA ýR, APA I., DČdictví sv. Václava, call number C 138/4, carton no. 2208, inv. no. 3729. This document has been edited by Hedvika KuchaĜová and Pavel R. Pokorný, “Die Sankt-Wenzels-Bibel im kulturhistorischen Zusammenhang,” in Svatováclavská bible/St.-Wenzels-Bibel: Teil 1.3: Neue Testament, Kommentare, 561-562. 19 The majority of the books were probably completed by 1712, that is, once again during a period of sede vacante, after the death of Jan Josef Breuner (1641–1710). Kuenburg did not take the office until 1713. 20 Reventlow, Epochen der Bibelauslegung, 205-207. 21 Berard L. Marthaler, ed., New Catholic Encyclopedia, Volume 14, (Detroit: Gale, 2003), 591-600, entry “Vulgate,” written by L. F. Hartman, B. F. Peebles, and M. Stevenson. 22 Biblia magna commentariorum literalium, 5 vols. (Parisiis/Paris: Via Iacobea, 1643). 23 Biblia maxima versionum, ex linguis orientalibus: pluribus sacris ms. codicibus innumeris fere ss. & veteribus Patribus, & interpretibus orthodoxis, collectarum, 19 vols. (Parisiis/Paris: Via Iacobea, 1660).

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Gagny (d. 1549), the Dutch exegete and commentator of the Pauline Epistles Willem Hessels van Est (1542–1613), the professor and rector of the Roman College Giovanni Stefano Menochio, SJ (1575–1655), and the French exegetes Jacobus Tirinus, SJ (1580–1636) and Jean de La Haye (1593–1661). In addition to these works, they also utilized various individually published commentaries on separate books of the Bible by Francisco de Toledo, SJ (1532–1596), Nicolaus Serarius, SJ (1555–1609), or that by Cornelius à Lapide, SJ (1567–1637), which had been translated into Czech by Václav VojtČch ýervenka z VČžĖova (1636–1694).24 Other sources that the commentaries in the St Wenceslas Bible also drew on include primarily the manual of patristics by Robert Bellarmine, SJ (1542– 1621),25 the collected works of Saint John Chrysostom (ca. 349–407) which were edited by Fronton du Duc, SJ (1558–1624), and numerous works of controversial theology, such as those by Robert Bellarmine,26 Georg Scherer, SJ (1540–1605),27 Martin Becanus (1563–1624)28 and Christoph Pflaumer, SJ (1596–1653).29 It is noteworthy and surprising that the works of the Czech author Václav Šturm, SJ (1533–1601) who engaged in fierce polemics against the Unity of Brethren were not similarly used. The literary-historical introductions to the individual books of the St 24 Jacques Lemarchant, Podstata víry kĜestianské, aneb Otázky, kteréž se mládeži s prospČchem duchovním pĜedkládati mohou. Nejprve od dvojí cti hodného knČze Jakuba Marchantia v latinském jazyku sepsané, nyní v þeštinu uvedené a mnohým pĜidáním, dílem z Katechysmusu JiĜího Šerera, dílem z SpisĤ Cornelii a Lapide Soc. Jesu TheologĤv a mnohých jiných rozmnožené, trans. Václav VojtČch ýervenka z VČžĖova (Praha: Jezuitská tiskárna [Jesuit printing house], 1669). 25 Robertus Bellarminus, De Scriptoribus Ecclesiasticis Liber Unus, cum Adiunctis Indicibus undecim, et brevi Chronologia ab Orbe condito usque ad annum MDCXIII. (Coloniae Agrippinae/Köln: Jost Kalckhoven, 1645). 26 Robertus Bellarminus, Disputationes Roberti Bellarmini e Societate Jesu: De controversiis christianae fidei, adversus huius temporis haereticos. (Ingolstadii/ Ingolstadt: Adam Sartorius, 1580–1600). 27 The texts by Scherer were translated into Czech by BartolomČj Flaxius z ýeĖkova towards the end of the sixteenth century. Scherer’s postil was translated by Joannes Barner at the beginning of the eighteenth century, probably whilst he was working on the BsV III. Georg Scherer, Kázaní na nedČlní evanjelia pĜes celý rok podlé katolického uþení a Ĝádu trojím, nČkdy i þtverým na jednu nedČli výkladem obšírnČ vyvedená [Sermons on Sunday Gospels to be delivered throughout the whole year according to Catholic teachings, three or four sermons per Sunday, with extensive expositions], trans. Joannes Barner (Praha: Jezuitská tiskárna [Jesuit printing house], 1704). 28 Martinus Becanus, Compendium manualis controversiarum huius temporis de fide ac religione (Pragae/Praha: Paulus Sessius, 1623). 29 Christoph Pflaumer, Dialogi catholici, trans. Jan Benedikt Smolík (Praha: Jezuitská tiskárna [Jesuit printing house], 1654).

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Wenceslas Bible drew on the commentaries by Cornelius à Lapide and on the Annals of Baronius.30 Historical facts were taken mostly from the Czech Chronicle (Annales Bohemorum) by Wenceslaus Hajek,31 and occasionally from the works of Bohuslav Balbín (1621–1688).32 This broad pool of sources, which included invectives against Calvinists (mainly by Cornelius à Lapide, Maldonado, and Serarius), Lutherans (by Scherer, Pflaumer), and other denominations, was adjusted to the local conditions by adding numerous allusions to Utraquists and the Unity of Brethren.

The Paratexts of the St Wenceslas Bible When discussing the paratexts of the St Wenceslas Bible, it is necessary to distinguish commentaries from marginalia and other types of texts attached to the biblical corpus. This translation holds primacy with regard to the number of various accompanying paratexts, and in this respect it surpasses even the six-volume Kralice Bible. The New Testament of the St Wenceslas Bible was first published with a foreword by Johann Fridrich von Waldstein; the second edition published in 1733 included a foreword by Daniel Joseph Mayer von Mayern (1656–1733).33 Both of these archiepiscopal forewords provided argumentation both for other commentaries and for the published Czech translation. Mayer largely adopted the text by Waldstein written in 1676. Both archbishops wrote in their prefaces that one of the reasons for publishing this New Testament translation was that “the shrewd heretics endeavoured hard to falsify the New Testament which is the basis of their heresies.”34 This is also why the New Testament was published first “so that in this way the Catholics may be entrenched in their accepted true religion and

30

Caesar Baronius, Annales Ecclesiastici (Romae/Rome: Ex Typographia Vaticana, 1588–1607). For Cornelius à Lapide, see http://www.catholicapologetics.info /scripture/newtestament/Lapide.htm. 31 Václav Hájek z Liboþan, Kronika þeská (Praha: Jan Severýn, OndĜej Kubeš, 1541). A modern critical edition was published by Jan Linka (Praha: Academia, 2014). 32 Bohuslav Balbín, Epitome historica rerum Bohemicarum (Pragae/Praha: Typis Universitatis Carolo-Ferdinandeae in Collegio Soc. Jesu, 1673–1677). 33 Nový zákon [The New Testament] (Praha: Arcibiskupská tiskárna [Archiepiscopal printing house], MatČj Adam Höger, 1733). 34 BsV, 5: “KacíĜská chytrost nejvíce usilovala Nový zákon zfalšovati, z nČho základy svých bludĤ béĜe.”

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the heretics may be induced to embrace it.”35 Moreover, the text by Waldstein, seeking support in the words of Saint Ambrose (ca. 340–397), recommends reading Scripture daily. Yet, at the same time, it insists that the readings must be accompanied by competent expositions approved by the church. The subsequent translators’ foreword basically draws on Cornelius à Lapide, as do the introductory commentaries to the individual books of the Bible. The alleged misinterpretation of Scripture by non-Catholics is also highlighted in this foreword. It must be pointed out that the term nonCatholics, as used in the New Testament commentaries of the St Wenceslas Bible, covers a large spectrum of denominations and heresies, starting with Simon the Sorcerer, whom we read about in the eighth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, and right up to the early modern reformers. This introductory text touches upon the issues of human freedom and God’s foreknowledge, particularly in the polemics against the Calvinist conception of predestination, and lists arguments against Luther’s understanding of justification through faith.36 The arbitrary interpretation of Scripture by lay people is considered to be an especially dangerous source of all heresies. The church’s magisterium argues using the words of the prophet Malachi: “For the priest’s lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth: for he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts” (Mal 2:7). Following this line of reasoning, the authors, treading in the footsteps of Cornelius à Lapide, initially use the literal interpretation of the biblical text. Only then they turn to the argumentation built upon the texts of the church fathers (mainly St Augustine, 354–430, and St John Chrysostom), the doctors of the church (chiefly Bernard of Clairvaux, 1090– 1153), and the Council of Trent (1545–1563). The mentioned sequence of authorities is consistent with the Jesuit educational programme (Ratio studiorum). This prescribed that students of 35 Ibid.: “Aby tou cestou katoliþtí v pĜijatém pravém náboženství utvrzeni a kacíĜi k poznání téhož pravého náboženství pĜivedeni býti mohli.” 36 This text in BsV, 10 reads: “Když Kristus nemocné uzdravoval, tehdy zaþasté to jejich uzdravení na tČle a spasení na duši jejich víĜe pĜipisoval, Ĝka: ‫ދ‬Víra tvá tČ uzdravila,’ kdež však nerozumČl samou a pouhou víru lásky prázdnou, jako rozumČjí nynČjší nekatoliþtí, ale rozumČl víru, která byla spojená s láskou a skrze nadČji, pokání i jiné ctnosti pĤsobila své skutky.” (When Christ healed the ill, he often ascribed their bodily healing and the salvation of their souls to their faith, pronouncing: “Thy faith hath made thee whole,” yet by faith he did not mean mere faith devoid of love as the present-day non-Catholics do, but that faith which, coupled with love and co-operating with hope, repentance, and other virtues, caused good works to be done.)

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theology at universities and academies should pass a course on the interpretation of Scripture in their second and third grades. The Scripture teacher should not only be linguistically competent, including having a basic knowledge of Hebrew, but he should also be versed in theology, history, and other disciplines, and last but not least be a capable speaker. He should interpret the Bible according to its literal meaning.37 At the same time, he should defend the Vulgate as the canonical translation. As for other points, it was recommended that he follow the interpretations of the church fathers and papal and council decrees. Where these differed, he should opt for that interpretation which was supported by tradition and the “general consent.” He could also rely on rabbinical authorities but only where they chimed with the Vulgate and the Catholic catechism. In cases where Catholic and Protestant interpretations differed, his main task was to disprove the “heretical” version using biblical arguments.38 Within the career of the university professor of the Society of Jesus, it was common that the professorship of the interpretation of Scripture was connected with that of controversial theology. Unlike Cornelius à Lapide, none of the editors of the St Wenceslas Bible ever worked as professors of Scripture or controversial theology. All of them were primarily translators and preachers. The sources from the Society list all three of them under the labels operarius, conversator, concionator, or missionarius (Steyer). Their standpoint was thus more practical than exegetical or controversial. Just like Constantius and Steyer, Barner also translated postils and published individual catechetical and polemical commentaries on Sunday pericopes.39 They nevertheless regularly referred to Cornelius à Lapide and to Baronius’s Annals,40 not only in the introductory expository texts to the individual biblical books but also in the commentaries on the individual chapters, though in the latter case Baronius was usually replaced by Bellarmine. The commentaries on the individual chapters are usually not pertinent to the entire text; instead, they are targeted at a single verse. They usually 37 In opposition to earlier methods of interpretation, which were based on four levels of textual meaning, the Ratio studiorum preferred the basic, literal meaning of the biblical text. 38 “Ratio studiorum,” in Institutum Societatis Iesu, Volumen Secundum (Pragae/Praha: Typis Universitatis Carolo-Ferdinandeae in Collegio Societatis JESU ad S. Clementem, 1705), 66-67. 39 Jan Barner, Summarie na všecka þtení a evanjelium jak nedČlní, tak i sváteþní pĜes celý rok (Praha: Jezuitská tiskárna [Jesuit printing house], 1711). 40 Caesar Baronius, Annales Ecclesiastici (Romae/Rome: Ex Typographia Vaticana, 1588–1607).

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contain catechesis, dogmatic commentaries, polemics, and criticism of popular piety with attempts to rectify the practice. The latter could be considered pastoral theological instructions. The commentaries are usually signalled by the following incipits: “From the verse . . . we learn . . .,”41 “We are taught . . . in verse two . . .,”42 “From verse eighteen we come to realize . . .,”43 and so forth. Other types of incipits bespeak actual polemical commentaries: “From this chapter we repudiate the meaning advocated by Calvin . . .,”44 “Verse thirty-seven provides us with the opportunity to repudiate the fallacy . . .,”45 and suchlike. In the New Testament, the commentaries appear regularly in every chapter. In the Old Testament, the frequency differs: the Third and Fourth Books of Esdras lack commentaries altogether, whereas others are commented upon in more detail. The only books where all the chapters have corresponding commentaries are Genesis, Exodus, Ruth, Joel, and some books of the Minor Prophets. On several occasions, the polemical commentaries set out a modus operandi for how to proceed in the case of a dispute, although the issue of who should actually lead the dispute is not always clear. Some commentaries firmly reject the possibility that non-Catholics could be confronted by laymen,46 whereas others instruct them how to do just that.47 The entire translation was intended for reading accompanied by exposition, not for private reading. It was meant primarily for clergymen, not for believers more broadly. Therefore we have to suppose that the commentaries too were intended to act as a set of instructions handed down to lay people by clergymen so that the laity could follow them in the absence of their pastors. According to the commentary on Judges 8:2, when engaged in a dispute with those “who, incandescent with rage, go after us, we shall not reprimand them nor answer them harshly, but treat them kindly and in a

41

BsV I, 46: “Z verše . . . se uþíme . . .” BsV III, 494: “Vyuþuje nás . . . ve verši 2. . . .” 43 BsV I, 28: “Z verše 18. poznáváme . . .” 44 BsV II, 189: “Z té kapitoly zavrhuje se smysl Kalvína . . .” 45 BsV I, 121: “Z verše 37. . . . naskýtá se pĜíležitost poraziti blud . . .” 46 BsV I, 266 (commentary on Acts 19:19): “KacíĜských knČh nemáme þísti ani s kacíĜi jednati.” (Heretical books should not be read and heretics should not be spoken to.) 47 BsV II, 59 (commentary on Is 46): “Kterak zaraziti mĤžeme kacíĜe nynČjší, když oni se pĜed námi chlubí svým uþením.” (How we can bring the present heretics to a halt when they flaunt their teachings in front of us.) 42

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quiet manner.”48 This was predicated on the assumption that it is the nonCatholics who initiate dispute, whereas those defending are the Catholic party who are (obviously) in the right. The commentary also refutes heresy on the grounds that the Catholic teaching is correct and that it is nonCatholics who (disrespectfully) attack it. The commentators knew it was impossible to convince the enemy unless they proceeded “kindly and in a quiet manner.” The principle of kind treatment is put into practice more frequently in the commentaries on the New Testament. There, and in the First and Second Books of Moses, the commentaries are often clustered into thematic units which are not directly related to the actual chapters. So, for example, the commentaries on chapters one to forty of the Book of Genesis are connected with the sacrament of marriage and married life, and commentaries on the following six chapters concern sin and penance. The majority of the commentaries on the Gospel of John refer to the topic of the Church, as do the first six chapters of Luke and chapters eight to sixteen of Matthew. The commentaries on the last four chapters of Exodus (as well as Ex 20, 25, 26, 32) deal with the Catholic veneration of images and with church decoration. On several occasions, the commentaries form a continuous catechetical paratext. However, the catechesis is often approached controversially: it supposes an uninitiated person who should be not only educated but also persuaded. Some parts are thus impossible to distinguish from polemics against worshippers of other denominations. Regardless of the declared preference of the seemingly unemotional line of argumentation based on biblical references, the text includes many expressive statements. These appear more frequently in the commentaries on the books of the Old Testament. Here is a good example of an emotionally charged mode of expression: “From this place the heretics pester and importune the Catholics in a full assault and with gay shouting like victors.”49 Very often, direct contact with the reader is established in this or some other way: “You, who read or hear this, consider whether, . . .”50 In some parts, the author even directly addresses his opponents, as in the commentary on the Book of Exodus: “Æneas Silvius in the Czech his-

48 BsV III, 494: “Jenž hnČvem rozpálení proti nám se sápají; že nemáme jim tvrdČ odpovídati a domlouvati, nýbrž pĜívČtivČ a tiše s nimi jednati.” 49 BsV III, 371: “Z místa tohoto plným šturmem a s veselým pokĜikováním jako vítČzové vypadají a dorážejí kacíĜi na katolické.” 50 BsV I, 107: “PovČz medle, kdo to þteš neb slyšíš, . . .”

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tory51 bears witness to the fact that nowhere in the whole of Europe were there more sumptuous churches and monasteries than in Bohemia; not only in towns but also in villages that were later deplorably ravaged, burned, and demolished at the hands of the stupefied sectarians and the enraged Žižka,52 as the fear of them still shows. This is how your new religion, you members of other congregations, embellishes the temples of the Lord. Where is there a church built or adorned by you?”53 One more example shall suffice: in stark contrast to the calm and reasonable line of argumentation, the commentators made this observation in their exposition of Joshua 22:12: “Heresies are to be nipped in the bud.”54 It is very important to take into account the perspective from which the adherents of non-Catholic confessions were considered in the commentaries; they were not treated simply as the ones who had erred. The commentators compared the Catholic Church to a boat onto which Jesus embarked to preach to the crowds gathered at the Lake of Gennesaret. The third verse of the Gospel of Luke asserts that the boat belonged to Simon Peter. According to the commentary on this verse, Jesus used Peter’s boat to show that “[he] cannot be found in any other church except the one entrusted to Peter and his vicars.”55 This point is made more forcefully in the commentary on chapter eleven of the Acts of the Apostles where it is stated that “no one can pride himself” on using the name of Jesus “except for the one who, being a member of his church, professes the salutary doctrine of Jesus Christ, true God and true man, and rejects and abominates all other beliefs and sects, such as those professed by the Jews, pagans, Turks, and the heretics.”56 Interestingly, a similar stance can also 51 For a modern critical edition, see Enea Silvio Piccolomini, Historia bohemica–Historie þeská, ed. Dana Martínková, Alena Hadravová, and JiĜí Matl (Praha: KLPKoniasch Latin Press, 1998). 52 The Czech Hussite leader Jan Žižka (ca. 1360–1424). 53 BsV III, 218 (commentary on Ex 36:5-6): “A Eneáš Silvius v ýeské historii svČdþí, že v celé EvropČ nebylo nákladnČjších kostelĤ a klášterĤ jako v ýechách; netoliko v mČstech, ale i ve vsech, kteĜí potom skrze omámené sektáĜe a vzteklého Žišku zplundrováni, spáleni a poboĜeni bídnČ byli, jakž se posavád obava jejich spatĜuje. Takhle pČknČ vaše nové náboženství, zborníci, ozdobilo chrámy PánČ. Kde ste vy kdy jaký kostel vystavili, ozdobili?” 54 BsV III, 473: “KacíĜstva hned pĜi poþátku svém vypleniti se mají.” 55 BsV I, 127: “. . . se nedá najíti v žádné jiné církvi, krom té, kteráž jest Petrovi a jeho námČstkĤm svČĜena.” 56 BsV I, 248-249: “. . . nemĤž se honositi žádný, jediné ten, který Ježíše Krysta pravého Boha a þlovČka spasitedlné uþení v jeho církvi vyznává a všecky jiné víry a sekty, jaké jsou židovská, pohanská, turecká a kacíĜská v ošklivosti má a zamítá.” See also the commentary on Jn 10:16, Christ has only one Church.

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be found in the commentaries of the Kralice Bible. However, there the argument was directed against the Catholics. Thus, in the commentary on Mark 13:22, “For the false Christs will rise…,” we read the following explanation: “Those are the false Christs who assume His honour, who consider themselves superior to others in the Church (2 Thessalonians 2:4), who pride themselves on being the head of the Holy Church: they make new offerings to efface their sins, and of their own will they present new articles of faith unfounded in Scripture and obdurately defend them.”57 In the commentaries of the St Wenceslas Bible, the convictions the Catholic Church held about its being the only way to salvation were, moreover, supplemented with explanations which accused non-Catholic believers of sinning against the Holy Spirit.58 However, the editors of the St Wenceslas Bible worked on the assumption that towards the end of the sixteenth century the Bohemian Kingdom was predominantly non-Catholic. Thus, for example, the commentary on the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, on the one hand, forbids mixed marriages (that is, marriages between Catholics and non-Catholics), yet, on the other hand, admits that the practice is slightly different: since mixed marriages are common “in the German country,” they should not be a source of any indignation, as it is understood that children will receive a Catholic upbringing.59 It is noteworthy that in such cases the commentary either respects the church legislation adapted to the local exigencies or even directly quotes provincial laws. Whereas the commentaries on the New Testament and the first two Books of Moses refer to opponents as non-Catholics (nekatoliþtí), heretics (kacíĜi), sectarians (sektáĜi), Lutherans (luteráni), Anabaptists (novokĜtČnci), or Calvinists (kalvinisté), from chapter thirty-sixth of Exodus onwards the vocabulary starts to include members of a church community (zborníci), innovators (novotníci), addled people (zmotaní lidé), or enemies of the holy Catholic faith (protivníci svaté víry katolické), and so forth. These 57

BK, 2283: “Ti sou falešní Krystové, kteĜíž sobČ þest jeho osobují, v chrámČ Církve nade všecko se vyzdvihují, (2Te 2.a.4.) za hlavu Církve svaté se vystavují: nové obČti k shlazení hĜíchĤ obČtují, a nové artykule víry, nemající základu v Písmích, o své ujmČ zaþínají, i jich neustupnČ zastávají.” 58 BsV I, 198-199 (Jn 9:26). Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit is understood as an unpardonable sin, for example, in BsV I, 37 (Mt 12:31). 59 BsV I, 352-353 (2 Cor 6:14). In such cases the commentators of the Kralice Bible, too, make family values a priority over dogma. Cf. BK, 2550 (commentary on 1 Cor 7:15): “A protož netoliko nesluší manželĤm nejednomyslným v náboženství pĜíþin k rozvozování se hledati a dávati, ale radČji odešel-li by který, mají sobČ k navrácení se a k smíĜení sloužiti.” (And thus it does not pertain to us to give married couples, who are disunited in faith, causes for separation; rather than seeing one or the other leave, we shall encourage their return and reconciliation.)

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commentaries also resort to figurative language and extensive similes, and the non-Catholic creeds are compared, among other things, to a very bleary and dreadful cloud (velmi kalné a strašlivé mraþno).60 Overall, the commentaries from chapter thirty-six of Exodus onwards attribute aggressive qualities to non-Catholics and often use a rather expressive vocabulary. Since the editing work on Genesis and Exodus up to chapter thirty-six was undoubtedly finished by 1694, it is Joannes Barner, or possibly his unknown successor, who was almost certainly responsible for this sharper tone.61 The controversy directly touches upon particular religious rites, such as the benediction of the holy water or the baptism of infants, upon the sacrament of penance, or more precisely, justification through faith and the efficacy of good deeds, further upon predestination and free will, upon priesthood, papal primacy, transubstantiation, communion under one kind, the veneration of images, the cult of saints, and the interpretation of Scripture. These topics are very seldom dealt with individually; usually the commentators connect them. All of these cases are, in fact, instances of catechesis which, to varying extents, is initially approached negatively— that is, it is first shown what the Catholic doctrine is not about—and only then it continues positively, sometimes with repetitive invective against the heterodox. Three commentaries related respectively to the veneration of images, the Catholic priesthood (including the sacrament of penance), and the interpretation of Scripture are discussed here for illustration. The commentary on Exodus 32:4 demonstrates well both the structure and the line of reasoning: “The sectarians strive to prove at all costs from verse four that the Catholics, who venerate images, commit the same sin of idolatry as did the Jews who are referred to in this verse; yet they are grossly mistaken.”62 This incipit was obviously written as a reaction to the commentaries of the Kralice Bible, which include the following note regarding the same chapter of Exodus: “Let everyone consider whether those who use images in the same way do not resemble them [i.e., the Jews worshipping the golden calf] or even surpass them in idolatry.”63 The Catholic commentator continues with an apology: “The veneration of 60

BsV III, 324 (commentary on Num 18:20). See the letter of the Superior General of the Society of Jesus dated 30 April 1695 and addressed to the visitator of the Czech Jesuit Province, Jacob Willi. ARSI, Boh 5/1, f. 208v. 62 BsV III, 209-210: “Z verše 4. usilují mermo sektáĜi prokázati, že katoliþtí, kteĜí obrazy ctí, nápodobného modláĜství se dopouštČjí jako tuto Židé; ale hrubČ se mejlí.” 63 BK, 195 (commentary on Ex 32:1): “Kdož i nyní obrazĤ v témž smyslu užívají, nejsou-li jim podobní, aneb nepĜevyšují-li jich v modláĜství, suć každý.” 61

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images was already discussed in chapters twenty and twenty-five of this book, yet this dispute belongs here and cannot be omitted.”64 It is an allusion to the deliberate connections made between the individual commentaries which, taken together, constitute a fully developed paratext. The argumentation itself is introduced by the following: I hereby say that the Catholics are not such dullards as to worship images in the same way in which the Jewish brutes worshipped the calf. We do not chant with them: “These be thy gods, O Israel, which brought thee up out of the land of Egypt.” There is an enormous difference between an image and an idol. An idol is a pagan god, a false god, a thing they consider a god, worship it and offer it a sacrifice. What Christian would do this with an image? An image is a symbol of true God or a saint, and for that reason we hold it in high regard; not for the image itself, but for those it portrays. We venerate an image of an emperor or a king because we venerate the person, not the image.65

This reasoning is then supplemented with arguments which refer to the practices of the early church: “Does not the Lord Jesus Christ alone present us with a sufficient example of how to venerate images of saints, since he sent to King Abgar his own image, which became the source of many miracles in the town of Edessa?”66 The editor quotes here John of Damascus (ca. 675/76–749), Eusebius of Caesarea (ca. 265–339), and Athanasius (ca. 295–373). He also returns to the motif of Luke the Evangelist as a painter, saying that “Luke the Evangelist painted several images of the Virgin Mary which are hitherto held in high regard,”67 thereby explicitly legitimizing the Catholic pilgrimage practices of the seventeenth century. The commentator relates these practices specifically to the Kingdom of 64

BsV III, 209 (commentary on Ex 32:4): “Jednáno jest sice o cti obrazĤ v kap. 20. a 25. knihy této, ale ponČvadž rozepĜe ta sem vlastnČ patĜí, opominouti ji nemohu.” 65 Ibid.: “Pravím tedy, že nejsou katoliþtí takoví sprostáci, aby se jako zhovadilí Židé teleti, tak oni obrazĤm svatých klanČli. NepokĜikujeme s nimi: ‘Tito jsou Bohové tvoji, Izraeli, kteĜíž vyvedli tebe z zemČ ejiptské.’ Veliký jest rozdíl mezi obrazem a modlou. Modla jest bĤh pohanský a falešný, kterouž oni za Boha majíce, ji se klanČli a obČtovali. Kdo jest z kĜesĢanĤ, aby to obrazu þinil? Obraz jest znamení Boha pravého, neb nČkterého svatého, pro kteréhožto jej v uctivosti máme; ne pro obraz, než pro toho, koho vyznamenává. Obraz císaĜský, neb královský v uctivosti máme; ne pro obraz neb malování, než pro osobu cti hodnou.” 66 Ibid.: “Zdaž nás sám Krystus Pán k uctČní obrazĤ svatých pĜíkladem svým dostateþnČ nevzbuzuje, když králi Abagarovi obraz svĤj poslal, skrze kterýž v mČstČ Edessu divy þinČni byli?” 67 BsV III, 209-210: “Svatý Lukáš vymaloval nČkolik obrazĤ Panny Marie, kteĜí až podnes v veliké uctivosti jsou.”

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Hungary where, according to him, Marian devotion was promoted by King Stephen I (ca. 975–1038). This historical argument concludes the commentary. Despite the fact that the commentary on Exodus 32:4 lacks direct biblical references, the editors of the St Wenceslas Bible considered it sufficient to refute the non-Catholic charges because, on the one hand, it documented the continuity of the Catholic practices and, on the other hand, it interpreted the intervention of the early modern reformers as representative of a break with the tradition going back to New Testament times. A similar pattern is followed in the commentary on chapter twenty of John’s Gospel. This commentary entitled “Proper priests truly forgive penitents of their sins” opens with the following words: From verse twenty-two we learn that duly ordained priests have the power vested in them by God to forgive sins, and they truly can forgive sins, for Christ assures us of this, saying: “Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them.”68

In the Kralice Bible, the commentary on the same verse reads: “To whomever, be they believers or penitents, you announce my forgiveness of their sins.”69 The commentator of the St Wenceslas Bible reacts to it: “It does not say: ‘To whom you will announce the forgiveness of sins,’ but ‘To whom you will forgive.’”70 He further supports this reading by references to Matthew 18:18 and 2 Corinthians 5:18-20. From this he shows with great immediacy that priestly absolution is not a mere annunciation of forgiveness of sins but the forgiveness itself. The third commentary I have selected for this essay is the one dealing with Deuteronomy, chapter thirty-one. Its very title is suggestive of the controversy that underlay it: Those who teach that everyone should be allowed to read Holy Scripture are being defeated (Poráží se ti, ješto uþí, že by každému povoleno bylo Písmo svaté þísti). It opens with an allusion to the Kralice Bible, but this time an explicit one:

68

BsV I, 219-220: “Z 22. verše poznáváme, že knČží ĜádnČ svČcení mají sobČ danou moc od Boha k odpouštČní hĜíchĤ, a mohou opravdovČ odpouštČti hĜíchy, nebĢ svČtle to jistí Kristus, Ĝka: PĜijmČte Ducha svatého, kterýmž odpustíte hĜíchy, odpouštČjíĢ se jim.” 69 BK, 2427: “Kterýchžkoli, to jest komuž byste koli z vČĜících a kajících ode mne hĜíchĤ odpuštČní zvČstovali.” 70 BsV I, 219-220: “Nedí: ‫ދ‬Komu zvČstovati budete odpuštČní hĜíchĤ,’ ale ‫ދ‬Komu odpustíte.’”

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Chapter Fourteen Moses, an old man of hundred and twenty years, decrepit with age, confesses his feebleness and inability to administer to the people and to lead them any longer. He thus empowers all, as well as Joshua, his assistant, to stoutly make for the land promised to them by God, and commands in verses eleven and twelve that every seventh year this fifth book, Deuteronomy, should be read to all the people assembled together. The erstwhile members of the Unity of Brethren in Bohemia clung to this doggedly, and in their Bible published in 1579, in folio 317, fought hard to undermine the ancient holy teachings of the Church that did not allow everyone—men and women, servants and maidservants, craftsmen and ordinary folk—to read Holy Scripture, to dwell upon it, or to examine its secrets. Their words go as follows: “It pertains to priests, as well as to all rich and poor, old as well as young, to learn from and be enlightened by Holy Scripture; they should not be prevented from reading it in a manner other than fragmentary, which has been and still is the practice pursued by the Antichrist.”71 I respond to their disparaging and false utterance, stepping in their way with calm spirit and in truth.72

It is significant that the commentator takes a defensive position against the Unity of Brethren. This defensive, apologetical stance is one that is frequently utilized and essentially constitutes a devise through which the author tries to win over the readers to his way of thinking; those who (intentionally, as he viewed it) misinterpreted the biblical text are unambiguously labelled as his enemies. The pejorative language used by the commentator makes this even more evident. The commentator of chapter thirty-one of Deuteronomy continues in this vein, emphasizing that the Lord ordered the priests to read to the people rather than that the book

71

BK, 414. BsV III, 427: “Mojžíš vČkem sešlý starec sto a dvadcíti letý vyznává nestateþnost svou, že více lid spravovati a vĤdcem jeho býti nemĤže. Posíliv tedy všecky, jako i Jozue, námČstka svého, aby zmužile táhli do zemČ sobČ od Boha zaslíbené, pĜikazuje v verši 11 a 12, aby každého sedmého léta u pĜítomnosti veškerého lidu spoleþnČ shromáždČného þtena byla Kniha tato pátá aneb Deuteronomium. Chytili se textu toho zuby i nechty nČkdejší v ýechách zborníci jednoty bratrské v Bibli své léta 1579. vydané v listu 317. a mocnČ poraziti chtČli starobylé církve sv. uþení, kteréž nedovoluje všem vesmČs mužĤm, ženám, pacholkĤm, dČveþkám, ĜemeslníkĤm a sprostnému lidu Písma s. þísti, s nimi se obírati a tajemství jich skoumati. Slova jejich dám: ‫ދ‬A tak tedy jakož knČžím, tak i všecknČm vĤbec bohatým i chudým, starým i mladým náleží se uþiti a osvČcovati Písmy svatými, a ne aby bylo zabraĖováno jich þítati, leþ kuse, jakž se tak od Antikrista dálo a dČje.’ Na kteroužto jejich hanlivou a kĜivolakou výpovČć já tuto odpovídaje v tichosti ducha a v pravdČ jim v cestu vkroþím.” 72

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should be read by the people. This is elaborated upon by a series of rhetorical questions: Is it not that we, the Catholics, teach all—rich and poor, short and tall, men and women, townsmen and noblemen, ordinary and common folk—all the articles of Christian faith, all of Godʖ’s and the Church’s commandments, and all that is necessary to know for achieving salvation and life eternal? What are other Scriptures for? They should listen to what is read to them, not read alone; the book of law was entrusted to the priests, not to the ordinary folk.73

The church’s magisterium again mounts an argument which connects the lay interpretation of Scripture with the danger of falling into heresy (as do the commentaries on 1 John, Isaiah 20, Sirach 3, and so forth), and affirms the considerable difficulty of the biblical text (similarly as in the commentaries on 1 Timothy 4 and John 7, 16), which is further evidenced by the statements of Luke the Evangelist (Luke 18:34 and Acts 8:31). The commentary concludes again by referring to the church’s magisterium: Those who want to understand Scripture correctly should turn to the Holy Catholic Church and request interpretation; the interpretation pertains to the Church, the Church was designated as the permanent pillar and the source of all truth.74

The “Swan Song” of Polemical Commentaries According to the information provided by Josef Anton von Riegger in 1785,75 not all the copies of the third edition of the New Testament of the St Wenceslas Bible published in 1769 were distributed. It was a reimpression of the first edition, so once again it was a very expensive publi73

BsV III, 407 (commentary on Dt 31:11-12): “Zdaliž i my katoliþtí nevyuþujeme všecky vĤbec, bohaté, chudé, malé, veliké, muže, ženy, jak mČstský a urozený, tak obecný a sprostný lid všem þlánkĤm víry kĜesĢanské, pĜikázaním Božským a církevním a všemu tomu, co jedenkaždý k obdržení spasení a k zejskání života vČþného vČdČti povinen jest? K þemu jsou jiná Písma? Poslouchati oni mají, co se jim þte, ne þísti; knČžím kniha zákona svČĜena jest, ne obecnému lidu.” 74 BsV III, 408 (commentary on Dt 31:11-12): “Kdo chce tedy PísmĤm zdravČ rozumČti, aĢ jde k církvi svaté katolické, aĢ od ni žádá vejklad Písem; jí pĜísluší Písma vykládati, nebo ona jest ustanovena za nepohnutedlný sloup a základ všeliké pravdy.” 75 Josef Anton von Riegger, “Nachricht von der sogenannten Erbschaft des heiligen Wenzel bey vormaligen Jesuiten in Prag,” in Materialien zur alten und neuen Statistik von Böhmen, IV. Heft, 1787, 767–786.

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cation. It is unclear how many copies were made, though we do know that approximately 270 copies remained in stock. This information is, however, incomplete, because it only takes into account the stock houses of the publishing house DČdictví sv. Václava (The St Wenceslas Heritage). There exist no records of the number of copies stored in the consistorial warehouse where more than 2,000 copies of the first edition had been stored since the 1690s. A new Catholic translation of the New Testament was published in 1778. Václav Fortunát Durych (1735–1802) and František Faustin Procházka (1749–1809) borrowed the authors’ preface from 1677, almost in its entirety. The text itself, however, differs in that it contains considerably fewer commentaries. Paradoxically, it can be presumed that this translation was distributed with even greater caution. The foreword again drew attention to the church’s magisterium and, given the absence of the commentaries, the believers were advised to read with humility and to turn to priests for any clarification. But it was already high time to start taking a different course. In the following revised edition from 1786, the translator František Faustin Procházka wrote: And so I brought it about [i.e., through my commentaries on the biblical text and through my translation of it] that not only the Catholics but also believers of other creeds could use this translation for the benefit of their salvation, and so that they would stop their practice of falsely informing on each other and suspecting each other . . . that the followers of this or that religion intentionally falsify Scripture . . . that all this would finally discontinue.76

Conclusion František Faustin Procházka’s work concluded this period of polemical commentaries on Bible translations, the peak of which was the St Wenceslas Bible. The latter took as its starting point the translation of the Czech Brethren, that is, the Kralice Bible. However, the marginal explanatory notes included in the Brethren translation were brief: they did not run through the whole length of the individual books nor followed any ex76

Písmo svaté Nového zákona (Praha: A. Elsenwanger, 1786), unpaginated foreword Ke þtenáĜi [To the reader]: “A tak [jsem] to zpĤsobil, aby toho pĜeložení netoliko katoliþtí, ale i jiných vyznání vČĜící k spasitedlnému duší svých prospČchu užívati mohli, a aby to nepravé jednČch na druhé žalování, a vespolek sebe v podezĜení brání . . . že by toho neb onoho náboženství lidé Písma naschvál falšovali, již jednou pĜestalo.”

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pected pattern. This essay therefore does not regard the Kralice notes as a distinct literary genre. By contrast, the commentaries contained in the St Wenceslas Bible are extensive and exhibit characteristics that do allow us to treat them as a genre. It is noteworthy that the polemics in the St Wenceslas Bible were directed against the commentaries on that biblical translation upon which the St Wenceslas Bible often relied for its language. The St Wenceslas polemical commentaries often imitated the style of preaching and catechesis, for which they were meant to provide models. However, research into postils which date from the turn of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries has not uncovered any significant evidence for mutual textual ties between them and the commentaries of the St Wenceslas Bible. Therefore it will be necessary for future scholars to explain the commentaries in the context of contemporary homiletic and catechetical literature. The figure of a preaching adversary, against whom a number of controversial theologians from the turn of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries directed their works, was at that time already disappearing from the religious scene of Bohemia and Moravia. So, while the Kralice Bible criticized specifically Catholic practices, the defence of them in the St Wenceslas Bible usually comprised an attack against a text rather than a practice. In view of the fact that non-Catholic translations of the Bible continued to be popular among Czech readers, it is only natural that they became a target of criticism. The six-volume Kralice Bible seems to have represented the strongest opposition against Catholicism, even though it was not the one that had the widest distribution. A rise in religious toleration encouraged by the state towards the end of the eighteenth century largely mitigated the disputes over the interpretation of Scripture. (Translated by Daniela Reischlová.)

PART VI: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY AND TOLERATION

CHAPTER FIFTEEN WEIGEL–WEIGELIANER–ANTIWEIGELIANER: AUF DER SUCHE NACH DER WAHREN „KATHOLISCHEN“ KIRCHE, ODER VOM LUTHERTUM ZUR „ERZKETZEREI“ MARTIN ŽEMLA

1. Der lutherische Pfarrer Valentin Weigel aus Zschopau in Sachsen ist bekannt als Verfasser mystisch, paracelsisch und theosophisch gestimmter Schriften, die sich zugleich polemisch gegen die lutherische Kirchenpraxis der zweiten Hälfte des 16. Jahrhunderts wandten. Valentin Weigel wurde 1533 bei Meissen geboren. Zwischen 1554 und 1563 studierte er Theologie in Leipzig, später in Wittenberg, wo er 1567 ordiniert wurde. Von diesem Jahr an bis zu seinem Tod 1588 war er pastor primarius im sächsischen Zschopau in der Nähe von Chemnitz. Seit 1570 schrieb er im Geheimen seine Schriften, die nur einem (doch nicht allzu engen) Kreis seiner Gleichgesinnten bekannt waren. Während seines Lebens erschien nur seine kurze Leichenpredigt im Druck. Erst seit 1609 wurden seine Schriften gedruckt, vor allem ab 1614, dann aber in großer Masse: Sehr rasch fanden sie weite Verbreitung und großen Einfluss, den teilweise schon seine handschriftlichen Texte hatten. Weigel verfügt über eine reiche Kenntnis von verschiedensten philosophischen und theologischen Quellen, die er ausnutzt: außer Bibel und Luther vor allem Augustinus, Boëthius, Hugo von St. Viktor, Meister Eckhart, Johannes Tauler, Theologia Deutsch, Nicolaus Cusanus, Sebastian Franck, Theophrastus Paracelsus, aber auch den florentinischen Neuplatoniker Marsilio Ficino und den mehr universell gestimmten Pico della Mirandola. Schon Weigels erste Werke weisen diese Mannigfaltigkeit aus: Einerseits schreibt er eine „Anleitung zur Theologia Deutsch“ und kommentiert Taulersche Texte (womit er sich eigentlich zu den Quellen der Lutherschen Reformation wendet), andererseits bereitet er zu derselben

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Zeit eine durch die Consolatio Philosophiae des Boëthius stark neuplatonisch inspirierte Abhandlung De vita beata vor. Schon hier werden auch teilweise paracelsische Elemente erkennbar, die später noch an Bedeutung gewinnen sollen. Kritik der lutherischen Orthodoxie bildet einen dauerhaft wichtigen Teil seiner schriftstellerischen Existenz; in den späteren Werken wird sie nur heftiger und radikaler. Schon 1572 soll ein Verhör Weigels stattfinden, weil ihm angeblich „Luther nicht rein genug“ wäre; danach schrieb er seine Apologie Vom wahren seligmachenden Glauben, wo er an mehreren Textstellen aus Luther zeigt, inwieweit er mit dem Reformator in Übereinstimmung steht. Die großen Kontroversen, die innerhalb der lutherischen Kirche nach Luthers Tod 1546 entstanden, sind auch bei Weigel reflektiert: der „adiaphoristische“ Streit über die Dinge, die für den christlichen Glauben gleichgültig oder unausbleiblich sind;1 der „majoristische“ Streit über die Notwendigkeit der guten Werke; der „antinomistische“ Streit über die Rolle des Gesetzes im christlichen Leben; der „synergistische“ Streit über die Rolle des menschlichen Willens; der „kryptokalvinistische“ Streit über die Präsenz Christi in der Eucharistie (in dem die Anhänger Melanchthons als geheime Nachfolger Calvins gebrandmarkt wurden); und endlich der „osianderische“ Streit, benannt nach Andreas Osiander (1498–1552), der mit seiner Lehre über die wesentliche Rechtfertigung (iustitia essentialis) des Menschen hervortrat.2 In ähnlichem Sinn wie Osiander argumentierte auch Caspar Schwenckfeld (1489/90–1561), der die Lehre vom „himmlischen Leib Christi“ und des wiedergeborenen Menschen vorlegte. Weigel nennt zwar öfters beide letztgenannten radikalen Reformatoren sowie auch Thomas Müntzer (1489/90–1525); sie dienen ihm jedoch vielmehr als „Typen“ einer geistlichen Haltung, der er nahesteht, und weniger als direkte Quellen.3 Vieles verdankt er jedoch noch einem anderen VerDiese Studie entstand im Rahmen des Forschungsvorhabens „Between Renaissance and Baroque: Philosophy and Knowledge in the Czech Lands within the Wider European Context“ (GA ýR 14-37038G), gefördert von der Forschungsagentur der Tschechischen Republik (Czech Science Foundation). 1 Vgl. Vom Leben Christi, Kap. 40f., PW (= Valentin Weigel, Sämtliche Schriften. Neue Edition, krit. hrsg. v. Horst Pfefferl [Stuttgart – Bad Cannstatt: Frommann – Holzboog 1996 ff.]) 7, 131ff. 2 Vgl. Andrew Weeks, Valentin Weigel (1533–1588). German Religious Dissenter, Speculative Theorist, and Advocate of Tolerance (New York: SUNY 2000), 34ff. 3 Vgl. Kirchen- und Hauspostille II,34, in: PW 12/2,442f.; Vom Leben Christi, Kap. 33, 35, 39, PW 7, 113, 117f., 128, und Horst Pfefferl, „Einleitung“, in: PW 12/1,XLIII, Anm. 73. Weigel zitiert mehrmals die Worte: „Wir zechen auf sein Kreyden“, die von dem Wiedertäufer Ludwig Hätzer (1500–1529) stammen.

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fasser, der unter die sogenannten Spiritualisten zählte: Sebastian Franck (1499–1542/43). Und als einer der ersten kannte und benutzte Weigel auch die theologischen, auch vom Wiedertäufertum inspirierten Werke von Paracelsus (1493–1541), wie seine uns erhaltene Abschrift des paracelsischen Kommentars zum Matthäus-Evangelium bezeugt (1581).4 Das wichtigste für Weigel waren jedoch vielleicht nicht die Kontroversen selbst, sondern—wie von einem der führenden Weigel-Kenner bemerkt wurde—die Feststellung, dass oft auch diejenigen, die aufrichtig und gut gesinnt die Wahrheit suchten, im Gespräch mit den anderen keine gemeinsame Lösung finden konnten.5 Deshalb wollte Weigel in seinem Werk nicht nur eine Kritik am kirchlich-religiösen Status quo geben, sondern vor allem auch eine tiefere Einheit und ihre metaphysische und epistemologische Begründung konstruieren!6 Weigel kritisiert also vor allem die bestehende religiöse Praxis in der lutherischen Kirche, nicht so sehr und gar nicht so eindeutig Luther selbst. Er rät sogar, den jungen Luther zu lesen.7 Luthers spätere Ansichten, für Weigel falsche, d.h. seine Abwendung von der Mystik, von der Idee eines belebenden, im Inneren jedes Menschen sprechenden Geistes, seine Bestreitung der Willensfreiheit und Proklamation völliger Sündhaftigkeit des Menschen usw., verfließen für Weigel oftmals mit jenen dogmatischen Kirchenlehren, gegen die er in seinen Texten wettert.8 Explizit gegen die lutherische Orthodoxie, doch im Einklang mit älteren Ideen der „Deutschen Mystik“, aber auch mit den früheren Lutherschen Texten ist Weigel Vertreter der Willensfreiheit. Er stimmt zu, dass die menschliche Natur korrumpiert sei, diese corruptio sei aber keinesfalls vollkommen.9 Hier heißt es zu bemerken, dass bei Weigel sich mehrere neuplatonische Motive befinden, die auch der Deutschen Mystik innewohnten—und doch ist er andererseits bemüht, die Behauptung zu vermei4 Vgl. Winfried Zeller, Die Schriften Valentin Weigels. Eine literarkritische Untersuchung (Berlin: Matthiesen Verlag 1940), 55f. 5 Vgl. Weeks, Valentin Weigel, 37. 6 Seine Instrumente und Ergebnisse unterscheiden sich aber vielfach von dem, was aus ähnlichen Gründen als eine einheitliche und einigende Konzeption die Konkordienformel präsentieren wird. 7 Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 2, ZW 4, 47: „. . . sonderlich in seinen ersten Schrifften . . .“ 8 Vgl. Der Güldene Griff, Kirchen- und Hauspostille (1578–1579), Vom Leben Christi (1578), oder später und rasanter Von der Vergebung der Sünden (um 1582) und schliesslich Dialogus de Christianismo (1584). 9 Zwei nützliche Tractate I, Kap. 7, ZW 3, 39; vgl. Gabriele Bosch, Reformatorisches Denken und frühneuzeitliches Philosophieren. Eine vergleichende Studie zu Martin Luther und Valentin Weigel (Marburg: Tectum Verlag 2000), 237ff.

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den, dass nach dem Sündenfall noch etwas Göttliches im Menschen wäre: noch mehr als bei Tauler oder in der Theologia Deutsch sind bei ihm solche Elemente voluntaristisch überfärbt und entkräftet durch die lutherschen Prinzipien sola fide und sola gratia, denen Weigel immer treu bleibt. Er begreift aber den „Glauben“ als etwas Wesentliches,10 als eine „Verpflanzung“ (vgl. Kol 1,13), „Wiedergeburt“, als das Medium der von ihm bestrebten unio mystica. Und dieses Verständnis wendet er kritisch gegen die Orthodoxie, die seines Erachtens nur um den „Trost“ mit dem Verdienst Christi und um den „historischen“, also nur formalen Glauben bekümmert sei. Die wohl bekannteste und schärfste Polemik befindet sich in Weigels Dialogus de Christianismo aus dem Jahr 1584. Es geht um ein auch in literarischer Hinsicht interessantes Gespräch zwischen Concionator (Prediger), Auditor (Laie) und Mors (Tod als dem Stellvertreter von Christus). Als einer der Hauptpunkte zeigt sich hier die Lehre von der imputativa iustitia.11 Weigel sagt zwar, nicht gegen die Rechtfertigung ab extra als solche zu sein, diese muss sich aber mit der inhabitatio essentialis, der „wesentlichen Einwohnung Christi“ verbinden: das Verdienst Christi kann aus Gnaden nur dem zugerechnet werden, wer in sich Christus leben lässt und wer auch durch seinen Tod durchgeht; nur derjenige wird auch „wiedergeboren“.12 Jeder hat die Seligkeit im Glauben zu erreichen – aber der rechte Glaube, das ist für Weigel (sowie schon früher für Sebastian Franck oder Erasmus von Rotterdam) Christus selbst.13 Der rechte Glaube ist „ein lebendiges Gefühl“, wie Weigel vor allem in seiner Betrachtung des Lebens Christi und Vom Leben Christi oft wiederholt.14 Der Mensch muss sich durch Christus mit Gott leibhaftig vereinigen, um eine „neue Kreatur“ zu werden und die unio essentialis durch die wahre Buße im wahren Glauben zu erreichen.15 Damit wird die—von Schwenckfeld und Paracelsus formulierte—Lehre von dem „himmlischen Leib“ (Christi und des wiedergeborenen Chris10

Vgl. Vom wahren seligmachenden Glauben, Kap. 6, ZW 5, 49n, wo Luthers Predigt auf Luk 18, 9-14 (WA 10, III, 297,16nn) zitiert wird; vgl. ebenda, Kap. 8, ZW 5, 60; Kap. 5, ZW 5, 40. 11 Vgl. Konkordienformel III, Pos. 2. 12 Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 5, ZW 4, 96. 13 Dialogus de Christianismo, „Erklerung“, ZW 4, 7; vgl. Kirchen- oder Hauspostille I,14, PW 12/1, 101ff. 14 Vgl. Von Betrachtung des Lebens Christi, Kap. 1, PW 7, 3ff; Vom Leben Christi, Kap. 1, PW 7, 29 usw. 15 Dialogus de Christianismo, „Erklerung“, ZW 4, 8; vgl. Kirchen- oder Hauspostille I,9, PW 12/1, 67; I,19, PW 12/1, 143; I,22, PW 12/1, 166.

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ten) verbunden; wir begegnen ihr gleich zu Beginn des Dialogus, vor allem aber in der Kirchen- oder Hauspostille und in der Schrift Vom Leben Christi.16 Dieser Lehre nach hatte Christus einen von allen Menschen unterschiedlichen, nicht aus dem Samen Adams stammenden Leib. Glaube, Liebe, Rechtfertigung, Ruhe und Seligkeit sind in uns nur, wenn wir denselben Leib und dasselbe Blut wie Christus haben, wenn Christus inhabitans et regnans in uns ist.17 In den früheren Texten verband sich die unio mystica für Weigel mit dem Willen: was im Menschen, in seinem Wesen immer schon verborgen ist, muss „nur“ enthüllt, durch den Willen gewollt und geschmeckt werden.18 Jetzt muss es eine „leibliche Einwohnung Christi“ im Gläubigen sein.19 Es geht um eine „neue Leiblichkeit“, um das „himmlische Wesen“.20 Damit hängt auch zusammen, dass es für Weigel keine menschliche (also „äußerliche“) Vergebung der Sünde gibt; niemand hat die Macht, Sünde zu vergeben. Alle Zeremonien dienen nur der Erinnerung, haben jedoch keine wesentliche Wirkung. Vor Gott sind alle Menschen gleich, weil Gott „kein Anseher der Person“ ist, wie der sächsische Prediger zu sagen pflegt. Gerade das Gegenteil wollte jedoch, so Weigels Meinung, die Orthodoxie durch die Konkordienformel gewaltsam etablieren.21 Dieses 1577 publizierte kirchliche Dokument sollte die Einheit in heftig diskutierten Glaubensfragen sichern. Für Weigel ist sie nichts als der endgültige Beweis des gewalttätigen Formalismus der Orthodoxie. Dass dabei die Formula Concordiae faktisch öfters im Einklang mit Weigel war, als dass sie ihm widerspräche, wie er meinte, ist eine überraschende Ironie.22 Genauso wie die Tatsache, dass in Weigels Lehre vom himmlischen Leib die Sünde eigentlich so „substanziell“ begriffen wird, dass der sündhafte Leib so16

Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 1, ZW 4, 14ff.; vgl. Kap. 5, ZW 4, 97; vgl. auch Kirchen- und Hauspostille, I,4, PW 12/1,31, 34, 36f. und öfters; Vom Leben Christi, Kap. 1, PW 7, 30; Kap. 16n, PW 7, 67ff., und passim. 17 Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 1, ZW 4, 17. 18 Vgl. z.B. Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 5, ZW 4, 94. 19 Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 1, ZW 4, 21 und 32f. 20 Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 3, ZW 4, 55. 21 Vgl. Dialogus de Christianismo, „Erklerung“, ZW 4, 9n; Kap. 2, ZW 4, 34; Kap. 3, ZW 4, 61nn; Kap. 5, ZW 4, 91ff.; Kap. 6, ZW 4, 111; Kap. 8, ZW 4, 133ff. 22 Die Formula Concordiae weist die Idee einer „wesentlichen Einwohnung“ als Folge der Rechtfertigung und die akzidentelle Natur der Sünde nicht ab (vgl. Die Concordien-Formel / Formula Concordiae III, 54 und I, 1, Negat. 7 und 9). Sie verneint jedoch mehrmals, dass die inhabitatio essentialis nicht nur die Folge der Rechtfertigung durch den Glauben sein könnte, sondern auch die Ursache (vgl. z.B. Die Concordien-Formel / Formula Concordiae I, 3, Antith. 4).

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zusagend „trans-substantioniert“ und durch den anderen, „himmlischen“ Leib ersetzt werden muss—eine Konzeption der vollkommenen Sündhaftigkeit des Menschen also, die Weigel der Konkordienformel vorwirft!23 Das historische Fakt ist, dass dieses Dokument in Weigels Sachsen jeder Prediger entweder unterschreiben oder seine Stelle verlassen musste. Und trotz seiner tiefen, oftmals schriftlich geäußerten Überzeugung hat auch Weigel unterschrieben… Er will es rational erklären, doch offenbar wurde diese Tat für ihn innerlich äußerst problematisch, wie aus seinen Schriften Von der Vergebung der Sünden und Dialogus de Christianismo klar hervorgeht.24 Seine Polemik gegen die lutherische Orthodoxie wurde jetzt offensichtlich noch heftiger und auch einige seiner Ansichten mussten sich wandeln: noch radikaler macht er jetzt Hinweise auf den Unterschied zwischen dem inneren und äußeren Menschen und auf die daraus folgende Freiheit des Geistes. Er schreibt: Die Welt mag von mir urtheilen, was sie wolle, dieweil ich eben darmit mein Freiheit des Geistes bezeuget habe, das ich sein konne unter allen Secten . . . one Verletzung meines Gewissens. Mein Schatz ligt im Hertzen, den kann mir keine Secte nehmen, es sey Bapst, Luther, Zwinglius oder wer da wölle.25

Man soll sich um eine Besserung der Welt und ihrer Praktiken nicht kümmern, weil es sowieso unmöglich ist, etwas wirklich und dauernd einzurenken. Alle Zeremonien und Sakramente, all die äußeren Kulissen der Welt sind unnütz.26 Nur der innere Grund ist wichtig, nur die Liebe, der „Tod Christi in uns“; die wahren Christen kann man an der „Gelassenheit, Liebe und anders nichts“ erkennen.27 Dank dieser—wir könnten sagen: quietistischen—Stellung war Weigel andererseits immun gegen die damaligen politisch-utopischen und chiliastischen Ideen, mit denen sich viele seiner Zeitgenossen, mehrere Paracelsisten einbegriffen,28 ernsthaft beschäftigten. 23

Vgl. Siegfried Wollgast, ed., Valentin Weigel. Ausgewählte Werke (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer Verlag 1977), 580, Anm. 24. 24 Zum kritischen Ton der späteren Werke Weigels vgl. Zeller, Die Schriften Valentin Weigels, 52. 25 Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 3, ZW 4, 60. 26 Vgl. z.B. Vom Leben Christi, Kap. 2 und 47, PW VII, 34 und 155 etc.; Kirchenund Hauspostille I,3, PW 12/1, 22. 27 Dialogus de Christianismo, Kap. 3, ZW 4, 70 und 74. 28 Zur Eschatologie des Paracelsus vgl. Kurt Goldammer, Paracelsus. Sozialethische und sozialpolitische Schriften (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck 1952), 41ff, seine sozialpolitischen Ideen vgl. ebenda, passim. Siehe auch Will-Erich Peuckert, Pansophie.

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2. Wir haben gesagt, dass Weigel seine Schriften nur in seine „Schublade“ schrieb und dass sie erst seit 1609 in Druck erschienen. Nicht nur seine authentischen Werke, sondern auch die ihm untergeschobenen Pseudoepigraphen wurden jetzt publiziert, die aber genauso wirksam waren wie der „echte“ Weigel. Im Unterschied zu Weigel interessierten sich jedoch ihre Autoren um numerologisch-kabbalistische, astrologische sowie auch apokalyptische und prophetische Themen.29 Außerdem können wir einen noch schrofferen Abwand von den äußerlichen Formen des religiösen Lebens bemerken, die nicht nur unnütz, sondern gar schädlich sind! Für die Weiterwirkung der Weigelschen Ideen ist wichtig, dass trotz gelegentlichem Zögern im Grunde alle diese Texte für authentisch genommen wurden. Wie sehr gelesen und rezipiert Weigel wurde, davon zeugt das rasche Verbreiten seiner Bücher (nur im Jahr 1618 wurden 18 „Weigeliana“ herausgegeben!), aber gerade auch die große Menge derjenigen, die sich seines Namens bedienten. Bald wird Weigel auch übersetzt: seit 1647 ins Holländische, 1648 ins Englische.30 Wer waren also seine Leser? Unter den Berühmtesten, die teilweise schon Weigels Handschriften kannten, müssen wir zuerst den bekannten Lutheraner Johannes Arndt (1555–1621) nennen, der einen Teil von Weigels Büchlein Vom Gebet in seine Vier Bücher vom wahren Christentum übernahm, eine präzise Kritik seines Dialogus de Christianismo schrieb und darüber hinaus noch mehrere seine Ideen in sein Werk einarbeitete. Zu erwähnen sind weiter die berühmten und einflussreichen Paracelsisten und Alchemisten Heinrich Khunrath (1560–1605), Oswald Croll (1563–1609) und Johannes Siebmacher (1561–1611). Auch im Eigentum des Kaisers Rudolf II. (1552–1612) war eine Handschrift Weigels. Nach der Publikation der weigelschen Texte zählte zu seinen Lesern z.B. der einflussreiche Mystiker und Theosoph Jacob Böhme (1575–1624), einer der Väter der Rosenkreuzertum-Idee Johann Valentin Andreae (1586–1654) oder der

Ein Versuch zur Geschichte der weißen und schwarzen Magie (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer 1936), 257ff; Maxmilian Bergengruen, Nachfolge Christi—Nachahmung der Natur. Himmlische und Natürliche Magie bei Paracelsus, im Paracelsismus und in der Barockliteratur (Scheffler, Zesen, Grimmelshausen) (Hamburg: Meiner 2007), Kap. „Republikanische Mystik“, 93-103; Charles Webster, Paracelsus. Medicine, Magic and Mission at the End of Time (New Haven–London: Yale University Press 2008), Kap. „Endzeit“, 210-243. 29 Vgl. z.B. den zweiten, unechten Teil des Gnothi seauton (Ander Theil Gnothi seauton … Astrologia Theologizata…, Newenstatt 1618). 30 Horst Pfefferl, Die Überlieferung der Schriften Valentin Weigels (Marburg/Lahn, 1991), Teil II, II–V; derselbe, „Einleitung“, PW 7, IX.

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Pansoph und Pädagoge Johannes Comenius (1592–1670), um nur ein paar Namen zu nennen. Was sie interessierte, war teilweise Weigels Epistemologie: die zwei Paracelsischen gleichberechtigten Erkenntnisfakultäten, also „das Licht der Natur“ und „das Licht der Gnade“; die „drei Augen“ (sinnliches, rationales, mentales); sein Aufruf zur Selbsterkenntnis als ein notwendiger Bestandteil der Erkenntnis Gottes und die damit verbundene Konzeption der „drei Bücher“ (Mensch–Bibel–Gott); die Idee, dass alles Äußere nur eine Offenbarung des Inneren ist und dass alles Erkennen aus dem Inneren ins Äußere „fließt“. Teilweise aber waren es auch Weigels theologische, ja auch seine sozial-politische Ideen: die unsichtbare Kirche; Toleranz angesichts divergierender religiöser Anschauungen; Ablehnung jeden Zwangs in religiösen Angelegenheiten, aller Gewalt und vor allem auch der Todesstrafe. Diese Leser des Zschopauer Pastors bildeten keine einheitliche, präzise zu identifizierende Gruppe. Mehrere orthodoxe Lutheraner glaubten aber, vor sich eine gefährliche Sekte zu haben. Erst bei diesen erbitterten Kritikern entstand der Sammelbegriff für alle von Weigel Inspirierten: die „Weigelianer“. Die erste Weigelkritik stammt von einem bedeutenden Theologen aus Wittenberg, Nicolaus Hunnius (1585–1643). Seine Principia Theologiae Fanaticae, quam Theophrastus Paracelsus genuit, Weigelius interpolavit erschienen 1619 und versicherten den Leser, dass nach Christi Himmelfahrt keine persönlichen „Offenbarungen“ der göttlichen Wahrheiten mehr möglich sind.31 Nur drei Jahre später publizierte Hunnius seine Christliche Betrachtung der neuen Paracelsischen und Weigelischen Theologie (1622), wo er die Lehre Weigels für die gefährlichste Häresie hält, die voll auf Paracelsus fußt—genauso wie jene drei vor kurzem erschienenen Rosenkreutzermanifeste (Fama fraternitatis 1614, Confessio fraternitatis 1615, Chymische Hochzeit Christiani Rosencreutz 1616).32 Die ketzerischen Hauptgedanken Weigels seien sieben: 1. aus den Papierbüchern kann man nichts lernen; 2. Predigten sind unnütz; 3. hohe Schulen sind verächtlich; 4. das Licht der Natur ist Lehrer auch in den Heilssachen; 5. aus dem Licht der Natur kann man alles Wissen schöpfen; 6. man braucht keine Men-

31

Vgl. Michael Heyd, Be Sober and Reasonable: The Critique of Enthusiasm in the Seventeenth and Early Eighteenth Centuries (Leiden: Brill 1995), 36, Anm. 75. 32 Nicolaus Hunnius, Christliche Betrachtung . . . (Wittenberg 1622), IIIb ff.; vgl. Siegfried Wollgast, “Zur Wirkungsgeschichte des Paracelsus im 16. und 17. Jahrhundert,” in Resultate und Desiderate der Paracelsus-Forschung, ed. Peter Dilg und Hartmut Rudolph (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner 1993), 139.

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schenlehren, die himmlische Offenbarung reicht; 7. der Mensch hat zwei Leiber, einen inneren und einen äußeren.33 1620 musste Johannes Arndt, selbst ein durstiger Weigel-Leser, seine nüchterne Kritik des Dialogus publizieren. Johann Schelhammer hat seine einflussreiche, umfangreiche und einseitige Widerlegung der vermeynten Postill Valentini Weigelii 1621 veröffentlicht. Hier wird von einer „Weigelischen und bombastischen [also Paracelsischen] Tollogia“ gesprochen, die gegen Hochschulen wettert; Schelhammer weiß schon von einer „Sekte der Weigelianer“. Weigel ist als Verbreiter des Chiliasmus, Schwärmertums und Schwenckfeldertums gesehen, der die Lehre von der imputata iustitia ächtet und sich den Rosenkreutzern nähert.34 Als einen der „neuen Propheten, Rosenkreuzern, Chiliasten und Enthusiasten“ sieht Weigel das 1622 herausgegebene Heldenbuch vom Rosengarten von Georg Rost,35 wo er neben den eschatologisch-prophetischen Autoren wie Paul Lautensack und Paul Nagel steht, sowie auch neben Thomas Müntzer und den Wiedertäufern.36 In demselben Jahr erscheint die Impietas Wigeliana (2. Ausgabe 1650) des berühmten Theologen Theodor Thumm (1586–1630). Die Liste der Irrtümer Weigels nimmt jetzt vier Seiten an! Weigels Lehre stütze sich, so Thumm, auf Hermes Trismegistos, Müntzer, Paracelsus, Sybille, Dionysios und Tauler, und verkehre fast alle theologischen Grundsätze, um eine neue Theologie zu mischen. 1634 erschien anonym ein Gründtlicher Beweiß Wie Theophrastus Paracelsus, Valentinus Weigel, Paulus Felgenhawer, Nicolaus Tetinge und andere ihres gleichen / mit grosser Heucheley / mit groben Lesterungen / und mit falschen Weissagungen umbgehen; 1639 dann die Treuhertzige Wächter-Stimme wegen der Weigelianischen Mord-Brenner von Nicolaus Zapf (1600–1672). Noch bei Gottfried Arnold (1666–1714) in seiner berühmten Kirchen- und Ketzerhistorie (1699) wird Weigel erwähnt,37 und zwar zusammen mit Tauler,

33

Hunnius, Betrachtung, 38-41; vgl. Wollgast, “Zur Wirkungsgeschichte des Paracelsus,” 140. 34 Johann Schellhammer, Widerlegung der vermeynten Postill Valentini Weigelii (Hamburg 1621), Teil I, 12. 35 Georgius Rostius, Heldenbuch vom Rosengarten. Oder Gründlicher und Apologetischer Bericht von den Newen Himlischen Propheten / Rosenkreutzern / Chiliasten und Enthusiasten … Benamentlich M. Valentinus Weigelius in tr. von der gelassenheit ... M. Paulus Nagelius im Prognostico ... Paulus Felgenhawer im Zeitspiegel / Anonymus Autor in Clangore Buccinae Propheticae, &c (Rostock, 1622). 36 Vgl. Siegfried Wollgast, “Valentin Weigel in der deutschen Philosophiegeschichte,” in Wollgast, Valentin Weigel. Ausgewählte Werke, 61. 37 Ich arbeite mit der Ausgabe Gottfried Arnold, Unpartheische Kirchen- und KetzerHistorie. Vom Anfang des Neuen Testaments Biß auf das Jahr Christi 1688 (Frank-

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Schwenckfeld, Paracelsus, Lautensack und Wiedertäufern sowie auch mit Rosenkreutzern.38 Die Kritiken zielen, nach Arnolds Meinung, besonders auf Weigels Idee, dass die Bibel nur im gelassenen Warten auf den Heiligen Geist verstanden werden kann, dass sie nur ein Memorial oder eine Erinnerung ist, und dass Weigel alle Ordnung und Unterscheidung aufhebt.39 Ein spätes Echo der anti-weigelischen Polemik ist schließlich die 1721 erschienene Dissertation von Johannes Reichel, der insgesamt 46 perversissima dogmata Weigelii resümiert,40 die sich größtenteils mit dem schon Gesagten decken. 3. An dieser Entwicklung offenbart sich, wie dialektisch die ganze, von Weigel (eigentlich aber schon von Luther) begonnene Polemik war: Die bestehenden Zänke der protestantischen Theologen führten zu Weigels kritischen Vorwürfen gegen die Orthodoxie, die später wieder durch äußerliche Ereignisse, die Unterzeichnung der Formula Concordiae bekräftigt und gestärkt wurden. Die unechten Schriften gaben dann dieser Kritik weitere Elemente zu. Auf die Gesamtheit dieser Texte reagierte wieder die antiweigelianische Polemik der orthodoxen Lutheraner. Bei ihnen wurde aber das geistige Bild des damals seit längerem verstorbenen Zschopauer Pfarrers stark verzerrt. Ihm wurden die theologischen Konzeptionen vorgeworfen, die er nur teilweise verteidigte (übrigens genauso, wie er selber angesichts der Orthodoxie agierte). Als „Weigelianismus“ wurde von nun an für das nächste Jahrhundert grundsätzlich jede Richtung der evangelischen Kirche gebrandmarkt, die sich in ihren Ansichten von der lutherischen Orthodoxie abwandte: Wer für Bekenntnisfreiheit, Toleranz und Pazifismus plädierte, war einfach Weigelianer.41 Weigel selbst galt als „Führer und Koryphäe der Schwärmer seiner Zeit“; sein Name wurde zum Synonym der gegenkirchlichen Haltung.42 furt am Main 1729), hier siehe Teil II, Buch 17, Kap. 17: “Von denen so genannten Enthusiasten dieses seculi, und zwar erstlich von Valentino Wegelio,” 1088-1114. 38 Ebenda, 1115. 39 Ebenda, 1095 und 1112. 40 Johannes Reichel, Vitam, fata et scripta M. Valentini Weigelii ex genuinis monumentis comprobata atque a compluribus naevis ac lapsibus purgata (Wittenberg, 1721), 26. 41 Wollgast, “Valentin Weigel,” 62ff.; derselbe, Philosophie in Deutschland, 584. – In dieser Sicht zählte man nur im Jahr 1620 in Nürnberg über 300 Weigelianer! Vgl. Wollgast, “Valentin Weigel,” 66-71. 42 Bernard Gorceix, La mystique de Valentin Weigel 1533–1588 et les origines de la théosophie allemande, Diss. (Paris: PUF 1971), 17, Anm. 1; Wollgast, “Valentin Weigel,” 53; vgl. Georg Baring, “Valentin Weigel und die ,Deutsche Theologie‫ދ‬,” Archiv für Reformationsgeschichte 55, H. 1 (1964): 5.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN DIE BEZIEHUNG ZWISCHEN DEN REFORMIERTEN UND KATHOLISCHEN GLAUBENSSTREITEN UND DER RELIGIONSTOLERANZ AM ENDE DES 18. JAHRHUNDERTS IM SÜDÖSTLICHEN TEIL DES KÖNIGREICHS UNGARN

ÁDÁM HEGYI

Am Ende des 16. Jahrhunderts gehörte die Mehrheit der Bewohner des Königreichs Ungarn zu einer der protestantischen Gemeinden. Diese Situation hat sich jedoch bis zum Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts infolge der Kirchenpolitik der Habsburger wesentlich verändert, denn in den 1780er Jahren waren nur etwa 20% der Bevölkerung protestantisch. Die überwiegende Mehrheit der Bevölkerung kehrte im Laufe des 18. Jahrhunderts zur römisch-katholischen Kirche zurück, da vom Staat, der den Katholizismus präferierte, diesbezüglich nicht nur Gewalt, sondern auch politischer und kultureller Druck ausgeübt wurde. Nach der Thronbesteigung von Joseph II. (1780–1790) traten im Königreich Ungarn bezüglich der Beziehung zwischen den protestantischen und katholischen Konfessionen wichtige Änderungen ein: Mit der Verkündigung des Toleranzpatents sowie etwas später mit dem Inkrafttreten des Gesetzes Nr. 26 von 1791 haben die evangelischen und reformierten Kirchen ihre früheren Rechte zurückgewonnen und sie wurden dadurch auch von der Unterdrückung der katholischen Kirche befreit. Dies alles bedeutete jedoch nicht, dass sich die beiden Kirchen angesichts ihrer Glaubenssätze angenähert hätten, obwohl die Gedanken bezüglich der religiösen Union wieder einen Aufschwung erlebten. Der Gegensatz zwischen den Konfessionen milderte sich jedoch, denn immer mehr Kirchenvorgesetzte wurden darauf auf-

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merksam, dass nicht nur solche Gedanken auftauchten, die gegen einige Glaubenssätze gerichtet waren, sondern auch diejenigen, die die ganze Religiosität angegriffen haben. Diese wurden für viel gefährlicher gehalten als die Spaltungen innerhalb der christlichen Kirche, denn durch diese Gedanken wurde die Existenzberechtigung der Religion selbst in Frage gestellt.1 Das oben erwähnte Problem erschien in einer ziemlich komplexen Form auch im südöstlichen Teil des Königreichs Ungarn, wo sich die Reformierte Diözese Bekesch (Békés) befand. Bezüglich unserer Untersuchung ist dieses Gebiet deshalb besonders interessant, da es in religiöser und ethnischer Hinsicht ziemlich gemischt war: Die Diözese hatte römisch-katholische, griechisch-katholische, griechisch-orthodoxe, reformierte, evangelische und israelitische Bewohner, die unterschiedliche Sprachen gesprochen haben, wie unter anderem Ungarisch, Rumänisch, Serbisch, Deutsch, Slowakisch usw. In einem derart heterogenen Milieu war es nicht einfach, nach religiöser Toleranz zu streben. Diese Tatsache ist in Bezug auf unser Thema deshalb sehr interessant, denn dadurch kann erklärt werden, warum ich mich entschlossen habe, eine kulturgeschichtliche Frage zu präsentieren, die sich auf ein Gebiet bezieht, dessen Größe Belgien entspricht. Mit dem Rückgang der Anzahl der Protestanten lässt sich erklären, dass es in diesem Zeitraum in der Reformierten Diözese von Bekesch (Békés), einem riesengroßen geographischen Gebiet, weniger als 30 Gemeinden gab, deren erhalten gebliebene Archiv- und Bibliotheksmaterialien relativ gut überschaubar sind. Hinsichtlich der geographischen Lage und Ausdehnung grenzte die Diözese im Norden an die Kreische (Körösök), im Westen an die Theiß, im Süden an die untere Donau und im Osten an die Karpaten; was die Sprache betrifft, befanden sich in der Diözese ungarische und deutsche Gemeinden. Bezüglich der Region schloss sie das ganze Banat sowie die südöstlichen Teile der Tiefebene ein.2

Die Erstellung dieser Studie wurde durch das Forschungsstipendium „János Bolyai“ der Ungarischen Akademie der Wissenschaften gefördert. 1 Jan-Andrea Bernhard, Konsolidierung des reformierten Bekenntnisses im Reich des Stephanskrone (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck et Ruprecht, 2015), 286-327. Mihály Bucsay, Die Protestantismus in Ungarn, Teil 2 (Wien: Böhlau, 1977), 278-280. Domokos Kosáry, Culture and Society in Eighteenth Century Hungary (Budapest: Corvina, 1987), 68-75. Jean Bérenger, Tolérance ou paix de religion en Europe centrale 1415-1792 (Paris: Honoré Champion, 2000), 235-252. 2 Bálint Kis, A Békési-Bánáti Református Egyházmegye története (Békéscsaba/Szeged: Csongrád Megyei Levéltár, 1992), 79-81. Géza Kovách, A Bánság demográfiai és gazdasági fejlĘdése 1716–1848 (Szeged: Csongrád Megyei Levéltár, 1998), 340-349.

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Die Verwaltung der römisch-katholischen Kirche bildete im südöstlichen Gebiet des Königreichs Ungarn im Gegensatz zur reformierten Kirche keinen einheitlichen Block, denn das Gebiet zwischen den Kreischen und der unteren Donau gehörte zu den Bistümern von Waitzen (Vác), Großwardein (Oradea, Nagyvárad) und Tschanad (Cenad, Csanád).3 Die Leitung der reformierten Kirche hatte zugleich um die Beruhigung der Streitigkeiten zwischen Katholiken und Protestanten sowie um den Zusammenhalt der Konfessionen zu kämpfen. Im Rahmen meines Beitrags habe ich vor, die Gedanken vorzustellen, die die katholisch-protestantischen Gegensätze kennzeichneten bzw. wie diese durch die Idee der religiösen Toleranz beeinflusst wurden. Am Anfang der Untersuchung muss in Betracht gezogen werden, dass die Reformierten, die am Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts im südöstlichen Teil des Königreichs Ungarn lebten, hauptsächlich in Dörfern und Marktflecken wohnten, die meisten von ihnen beschäftigten sich mit Landwirtschaft, einige waren als Handwerker tätig und es gab unter ihnen nur wenige weltliche Intellektuelle (z.B. Apotheker) oder Angehörige des mittleren Adels. Auf diesem Gebiet gab es zu jener Zeit nur ein reformiertes Gymnasium: Dieses befand sich in Neumarkt an der Theiß (HódmezĘvásárhely). Am Anfang des 19. Jahrhunderts wurde in Maisbrünn (MezĘberény) ein evangelisches Gymnasium gegründet, das ab und zu auch von reformierten Schülern besucht wurde. Zudem wird dies auch dadurch gut gezeigt, dass in den Ortschaften des Dekanats im untersuchten Zeitraum weder Typographie noch Buchhändler zu finden waren. Die nächstgelegenen Druckereien befanden sich in den Städten Szeged und Arad, und diese wurden in den Jahren 1801 sowie 1819 gegründet.4 In Ungarn wurde das gedruckte Buch von den Vertretern der Aufklärung als ein Mittel gehalten, mit dessen Hilfe das Bildungsniveau des gemeinen Volkes erhöht werden kann. In Bezug auf das Programm der Popularisierung des Lesens kam es jedoch zu einer paradoxen Situation, da die führenden Intellektuellen so sozialisiert worden waren, dass sie sich um die ungebildeten Volksschichten nicht kümmern sollen. Diese merkwürdige Situation wird auch durch die Übersetzung von mehreren volksaufklärenden Werken ins 3

Kosáry, Culture, 68-75. László Kósa, A Cultural History of Hungary. Vol. 1. From the Beginnings to the Eighteenth Century (Budapest: Corvina/Osiris, 1999), 268-274. Egyed Hermann, A katolikus egyház története Magyarországon 1914-ig (München: Aurora, 1973), 297-300 4 Ferenc Szabó, “Az Alföld a 18. századtól a 20. század derekáig,” in Két és fél évszázad az Alföld történetébĘl, Hrsg. Ferenc Szabó (Szeged: Csongrád Megyei Levéltár, 2008), 137-210. Endre Gaál, A szegedi nyomdászat 1801–1918 (Szeged: Csongrád Megyei Levéltár, 2001), 6-15.

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Ungarische gut gezeigt: Obwohl in den Originalen dieser Werke die Rolle des Buches und des Lesens als zentrales Motiv behandelt wurde, geriet das Buch in den ungarischen Texten sowohl in den protestantischen, als auch in den katholischen Arbeiten in eine marginale Position, bzw. statt der Wichtigkeit des Lesens wurde eher die der mündlichen Rede betont.5 Ildikó Kristóf stellte im Rahmen der Forschungen bezüglich der Rechtsakten des frühneuzeitlichen Ungarns fest, dass die Rechtssachen in vielen Fällen mit Formeln abgeschlossen wurden, die sowohl bei den schriftlichen, als auch den mündlichen Beweisführungen benutzt wurden, d.h. in einigen Gruppen der Gesellschaft konnte der Übergang zwischen der Alphabetisierung und dem Analphabetismus am Anfang des 19. Jahrhunderts immer noch beobachtet werden.6 Im frühneuzeitlichen Ungarn war das gemeinschaftliche laute Vorlesen noch allgemein verbreitet. Man könnte dafür sehr viele Beispiele nennen, es reicht jedoch, die Ortschaft Alsóvadász zu erwähnen, wo in der Dorfordnung die Art und Weise der Sonntagslektüren festgesetzt wurde.7 Daraus folgt, dass die Reformierte Diözese von Bekesch (Békés) kein ideales Feld für den Empfang von philosophischen Gedanken der religiösen Toleranz war: Es kann angenommen werden, dass nur wenige von denjenigen, die überhaupt des Lesens kundig waren, Werke gelesen haben, in denen die Art und Weise der Versöhnung zwischen den Glaubensgemeinschaften detailliert als Thema behandelt wurde. Die öffentliche Meinung wurde in erster Linie von mündlichen Informationen und vom Hörensagen beeinflusst und nicht von Schriftwerken. Die Forschungen bezüglich des Vorbereitetseins des katholischen niederen Klerus im Königreich Ungarn im 18. Jahrhundert belegen auch diesen Standpunkt: Die Priester konnten nämlich zwischen der Aufklärung und der Kirchenkritik der radikalen Aufklärung sowie der Kirchenfeindlichkeit keinen Unterschied machen.8 5

György Kókay, “Javaslatok 1789-bĘl a könyvolvasás népszerĦsítése érdekében,” in Könyv, sajtó és irodalom a felvilágosodás korában, Hrsg. György Kókay (Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 1983), 170-171. Katalin Fehér, Népfelvilágosító törekvések Magyarországon 1777–1849 (Budapest: Mati, 2009), 84-90. Gergely Labádi, “Az olvasó pásztor. A könyv médiuma a felvilágosult népnevelésben,” Erdélyi Múzeum 69, (2007): 61-78. 6 Ildikó Sz. Kristóf, “A számoktól a (jogi) szövegekig: alfabetizációtörténet, olvasástörténet vagy kommunikációtörténet?” Acta Papensia 6 (2002): 3-28. 7 Dénes Dienes, Alsóvadász: Egy abaúji község históriája (Sárospatak: SzerzĘi kiadás, 1998), 30. 8 Zoltán Lukácsi, “Szószék és világosság. A magyar katolikus prédikáció a 18–19. század fordulóján,” in Prima manus: Tanulmányok a felvilágosodás korának magyar irodalmából, Hrsg. Anna Keszeg és Vaderna Gábor, (Budapest: Ráció, 2008), 61-63.

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Bis zum Erlass des Toleranzpatents mussten die protestantischen Kirchen im Königreich Ungarn sehr viele Erniedrigungen erdulden. Deshalb kann angenommen werden, dass die Spannungen zwischen den katholischen und reformierten Gläubigen bezüglich der alltäglichen Religionsausübung nicht sofort verschwunden waren. Es ist aber eine Tatsache, dass vom Staat auch nach dem Tod König Josephs II. versucht wurde, die Exzesse der katholischen Kirche einzudämmen. Es ist kein Zufall, dass im Jahr 1791 Gesetze zur Sicherung der größeren Freiheit für die evangelischen und reformierten Glaubensgemeinschaften verabschiedet wurden: Das Recht auf Zensur der protestantischen Werke bezüglich des Glaubenslebens geriet zum Beispiel in die Hände der protestantischen Kirche, und die katholische Kirche konnte sich daher in diese Angelegenheiten nur in Ausnahmefällen einmischen.9 Laut László Balázs wurde am Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts vom Herrscher während der Ausübung des Patronatsrechts großer Wert darauf gelegt, dass nur solche katholische Bischöfe und Erzbischöfe von ihm ernannt werden, die mit angemessener Toleranz mit den religiösen Fragen der Diözesen mit gemischten Glaubensgemeinschaften umgehen konnten.10 Wir dürfen jedoch nicht vergessen, dass die Kirchenverwaltungsakten der Diözesen von Balázs außer Acht gelassen wurden, und daher kann seine Bemerkung nicht unbedingt als gültig betrachtet werden. Wahrscheinlich steht es der Wahrheit näher, wenn wir folgendermaßen formulieren: Die katholischen Bischöfe wendeten keine gewaltsame Mission mehr an, aber sie beharrten nach wie vor starr auf den Glaubenssätzen ihrer Glaubensgemeinschaft. Das bedeutete jedoch nicht, dass sie in einigen Fällen—entweder aus Interesse oder Überzeugung—die typischen Thesen der religiösen Toleranz nicht eingesetzt hätten: Die hiesigen Priester wurden von ihnen im Fall von gemischten Glaubensgemeinschaften wahrscheinlich angewiesen, die Gläubigen der anderen Glaubensgemeinschaft nicht zu kritisieren und beschimpfen. Wenn lediglich die Ereignisse auf dem Gebiet der Reformierten Diözese von Bekesch (Békés) untersucht werden, fällt sofort auf, dass sich nach 1781 die Anzahl der neugegründeten Kirchengemeinden sehr schnell erhöhte, da erst mit der Thronbesteigung von Joseph II. möglich wurde,

9 Ibolya FelhĘ und Antal Vörös, A helytartótanácsi levéltár (Budapest: Akadémiai Kiadó, 1961), 223. Oszkár Sashegyi, Német felvilágosodás és magyar cenzúra 1800–1830 (Budapest: Dunántúli Pécsi Egyetemi Kiadó, 1938), 14-15. Egyed Schermann, “A protestáns cenzúra teljes kialakulása,” Pannonhali Szemle 6 (1931): 220. 10 László Balázs, A felekezetek egymáshoz való viszonya 1791–1830 (Budapest: Medika, 1935), 14-16.

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dass von den Protestanten Ansiedlerdörfer im Banat gegründet werden.11 In Zusammenhang damit wurden von mehreren Forschern die besonderen gesellschaftlichen Phänomene untersucht, die sich aus der multikulturellen Umgebung ergaben. Sie gingen jedoch wegen der großen Zahl der Quellen darauf nicht ausführlich ein, wie sich die religiöse Toleranz im Alltag tatsächlich realisierte.12 Meiner Meinung nach konnte die Erscheinung von neuen reformierten Gemeinschaften auch zu Konflikten mit denen führen, die auf demselben Gebiet seit längerer Zeit lebten und eine andere Religion ausübten. Es ist uns jedoch nicht bekannt, dass es in dieser Gegend zu größeren religiösen Unruhen gekommen ist. Gegensätze in Bezug auf die wirtschaftlichen Interessen kamen aber umso mehr vor: Die rumänischen Bauern konnten ziemlich schwer ertragen, dass ein neues deutschsprachiges Dorf, d.h. Rittberg von einem Tag auf den anderen in der Nachbarschaft ihrer Ackerböden gegründet wurde. Ihre Unzufriedenheit führte schließlich dazu, dass sich die deutsche Bevölkerung von Rittberg innerhalb von ein paar Jahren zerstreute, und das Dorf 1794 von ungarischen Reformierten neugegründet wurde.13 Ein gutes Beispiel für die Veranschaulichung der unter der Oberfläche brodelnden religiösen Konflikte stellt die Geschichte der reformierten Kirche in Kleinpereg (Kispereg/Peregu Mic) dar, die sich in der Reformierten Diözese Bekesch (Békés) befindet. Warum denn? Die Antwort ist ganz einfach: Im Jahr 1787 wurden von reformierten Ansiedlern in der Nähe der Stadt Arad die Ortschaft und die reformierte Kirchengemeinde Kleinpereg gleichzeitig gegründet.14 Das Dorf ist für uns deshalb sehr interessant, weil seine Bewohner in den 1770er Jahren aus der Gemeinde Egyek geflohen sind, da sie sich weigerten, sich auf den Befehl des Kapitels von Erlau (Eger) zu rekatholisieren. Einige Historiker sind der Meinung, dass ihr Fall deshalb beispiellos ist, da ihre Geschichte ein Beweis dafür sei, dass die Staatsstruktur von Maria Theresia nicht von den Prinzipien des aufgeklärten Absolutismus, sondern von denen des religiösen 11 Sándor Kókai, A Bánság történeti földrajza (1718–1918) (Nyíregyháza: Nyíregyházi FĘiskola, 2010), 55-69, 92-96. 12 Márta Fata (Hrsg.), Migration im Gedächtnis. Auswanderung und Ansiedlung im 18. Jahrhundert in der Identitätsbildung der Donauschwaben (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner, 2013). 13 Lajos Szmida und István Nikolényi, Temes vármegyei Végvár (Rittberg) nagyközség múltja és jelene (Temesvár/Timiúoara: Végvár község, 1901), 1-6. 14 Géza Szondy, Kispereg község és református egyház története (Arad: Kalmár Nándor és Tsai Nyomdatársaság, 1912), 12-34. Imre Szondy, EgyekbĘl lett Kispereg története (Arad: Kisperegi Ev. Ref. Egyház, 1887), 25.

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Fanatismus bestimmt wurde.15 Ich bin der Ansicht, dass dies nicht mit Sicherheit behauptet werden kann. Es ist jedoch eine Tatsache, dass die komplette Bevölkerung eines Dorfes wegen ihres Glaubens ein Jahrzehnt lang in der Wüste umherwanderte, bis es ihr vom König Joseph II. erlaubt wurde, sich an dem neuen Ort anzusiedeln. Aufgrund dieser Vorgeschichte könnte wohl angenommen werden, dass unter den Schriftstücken der Kirche von Kleinpereg eine ganze Menge von Beweisen in Bezug auf die religiöse Intoleranz zu finden ist. Die Wahrheit sieht jedoch ganz anders aus. Die Ortschaft Kleinpereg wurde zum südöstlichen Zentrum der reformierten Mission. Das kleine Dorf mit kaum ein paar hundert Einwohnern spielte eine aktive Rolle bezüglich der je größeren Verbreitung ihres Glaubens. Mit seiner Hilfe kamen am Anfang des 19. Jahrhunderts mehrere reformierte Kirchengemeinschaften zustande, von denen die Stadt Arad hervorzuheben ist. Diese Stadt war zu jener Zeit Komitatssitz und ein bedeutendes militärisches Zentrum, und im Jahr 1799 konnte der Prediger von Kleinpereg erreichen, sich um die Seelsorge der reformierten Soldaten selber zu kümmern, die in Arad stationiert waren.16 Für die Seelsorge der reformierten Bevölkerung der Gemeinden Battonya und Reformátuskovácsháza war ebenso der Prediger von Kleinpereg zuständig.17 Am Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts wurde die Kirchengemeinde von Kleinpereg jedes Jahr einmal vom Propst persönlich besucht. In den Protokollen, die über diese Besuche geführt wurden, wurden nie Gegensätze zwischen Katholiken und Reformierten erwähnt, obwohl keines der benachbarten Dörfer zu jener Zeit reformiert war.18 Ich denke, die aktive Missionstätigkeit kann gerade mit den Verfolgungen der Dorfbewohner in der Vergangenheit zusammenhängen. Ein Jahrzehnt lang andauernde Schwierigkeiten haben die fliehende Bevölkerung vereinigt und geprägt, sie wurde bereit, sich für ihren Glauben standhaft einzusetzen. Sie hat wahrscheinlich in Bezug auf den Katholizismus viele schlechte Erfahrungen gemacht, wobei sie hinsichtlich der konfessionellen Unterschiede eine eigene spezielle Auffassung entwickelte: In ihrem Namen wurde die ka15 Elemér Mályusz, Magyarország története a felvilágosodás korában (Budapest: Osiris, 2002), 290-303. 16 Egyházmegyei közgyĦlés Gyulavári, 1799. február 28. [Diözesenversammlung Gyulavári, den 28. Februar 1799] Tiszántúli Református Egyházkerületi és Kollégiumi Levéltár (Debrecen) (TtREL) [Archiv des reformierten Kirchendistriktes Jenseits-derTheiß] I.29.a.2. 17 János Barcsa, A Tiszántúli Ev. Ref. Egyházkerület története, Bd. 2 (Debrecen: Faragó György, 1908), 273. 18 Egyházlátogatások Kisperegen 1787–1821 [Kirchenvisitationen in Kispereg 1787– 1821], TtREL I.29.h.1.

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tholische Kirche nie offen angegriffen, aber sie hat alles für die Verbreitung von eigenen Glaubenssätzen getan. Das ganze erhalten gebliebene Dokumentenmaterial der Diözese wurde von mir durchgeschaut, wodurch ich genügend Daten über die Spuren der religiösen Toleranz am Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts erhalten konnte. Es ist überraschend, dass diese meistens in Bezug auf Ereignisse nachgewiesen werden können, die durch Spannungen zwischen den Glaubensgemeinschaften verursacht wurden. An der westlichen Grenze der Diözese befand sich der Marktflecken Szentes, der die zweitgrößte Bevölkerungszahl unter den reformierten Kirchengemeinden im südöstlichen Teil des Königreichs Ungarn hatte. Der Marktflecken war jedoch in religiöser Hinsicht vielfältig, denn es gab dort sowohl römisch-katholische, als auch griechisch-katholische und evangelische Glaubensgemeinden. Im Laufe des 18. Jahrhunderts wurde die reformierte Gemeinde von der katholischen Kirche mehrmals belästigt. Am meisten haben sie aber dann gelitten, als ihre Kirche in den Besitz der Katholiken übergegangen ist. Nach dem Erlass des Toleranzpatents normalisierte sich die Situation: Die reformierten und katholischen Einwohner lebten relativ friedlich nebeneinander.19 Im Jahr 1803 wurden die Reformierten von Kaplan György Kornis auf dem Markt (d.h. vor großer Öffentlichkeit) ziemlich grob beschimpft. Was den Inhalt seiner Predigt betrifft, wurden keine Neuigkeiten bezüglich der Unterschiede zwischen den beiden Glaubensgemeinschaften erwähnt: Er trat für die Berechtigung der sieben Sakramente ein und behauptete, dass Hostie und Wein von den Priestern in der Tat in Leib und Blut Jesu Christi verwandelt würden. Es ist aber viel interessanter, dass er die Reformierten öffentlich verspottete: Er behauptete, sie seien noch wertloser als Juden.20 Seine Predigt löste konfessionelle Unruhen im Marktflecken aus: In einer Weberwerkstatt gerieten katholische und reformierte Junggesellen aneinander, die Frauen beider Glaubensgemeinschaften beschimpften einander gegenseitig in der Mühle.21 Die Wiederherstellung der Ordnung und des Friedens wurde je19 Mária Homoki Nagy, “Fejezetek a szentesi református ecclesia történetébĘl,” in A XVIII–XX. századi polgári írásbeliség produktumai a Dél-Alföldön, Hrsg. Edit Takács (Szentes: Csongrád Megyei Levéltár, 1997), 33-42. Edit Takács, A szentesi református ekklézsia története 1700–1825, Bd. 2 (Szentes: NKA, 2001), 261; http://www.szentesinfo.hu/cd/ekklezsia/start.htm. László Sima, Szentes város története (Szentes: Vajda, 1914), 333-334, 338, 362, 378. 20 Kornis György prédikációja, 1803. június 9. [Die Predigt von Kaplan György Kornis, den 9. Juni 1803] TtREL I.1.b.42.806. nr. 1. 21 Beszámoló a szentesi zavargásokról, 1803. június 22 [Bericht über die Unruhe in Szentes, den 22. Juni 1803] TtREL I.1.b.42.806. nr. 3.

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doch nicht nur von der reformierten Kirche angestrebt, denn Sándor Bodonyi (1743–1811), der (katholische) Bischof von Waitzen (Vác), schritt auch ein und entließ den Priester von Szentes.22 Der Eingriff des Bischofs von Waitzen ist auch deshalb sehr interessant, da er dabei nicht für seinen (katholischen) Priester eintritt, sondern er hielt es für wichtiger, den Glaubensfrieden aufrechtzuerhalten. Ein paar Jahre nach diesem Vorfall konnten die verschiedenen Glaubensgemeinschaften in Szentes dermaßen harmonisch nebeneinander leben, dass der reformierte Prediger den neuen katholischen Priester als einen seiner besten Freunde bezeichnete.23 Von den beiden Kirchen wurde sogar eine offizielle Vereinbarung getroffen, laut derer in den beiden Kirchen gegenseitig geläutet wurde, wenn der Vorsteher einer der beiden Glaubensgemeinschaften gestorben war.24 Die religiöse Toleranz konnte auch in Bezug auf andere Glaubensgemeinschaften beobachtet werden, denn in der reformierten Kirche wurden auch evangelische Gottesdienste gefeiert, und die wichtigsten Kniffe des Angelns wurden dem reformierten Prediger vom Popen beigebracht.25 Die Konflikte zwischen Reformierten und Katholiken der Ortschaften Pădureni (ErdĘhegy) und Chi‫܈‬ineu-Cri‫( ܈‬KisjenĘ) konnten leider nicht so schön gelöst werden. Im Jahr 1804 wurde auf die Statue des heiligen Johannes, die sich gegenüber der katholischen Kirche befand, eine abgehautete Katze genagelt bzw. ein Spottgedicht (ein Pasquill) aufgesteckt. Im Gedicht wurden die Katholiken auf eine ziemlich gemeine Art und Weise beschimpft, der Verdacht fiel daher sofort auf den hiesigen reformierten Prediger, denn er war einerseits—wegen seiner Bildung—fähig, Gedichte zu schreiben, andererseits stand er den katholischen Lehren kritisch gegenüber. Später stellte sich aber heraus, dass er dabei unschuldig war. Es wurde sogar angenommen, dass der katholische Priester das Spottgedicht verfasste, um dadurch religiöse Konflikte auszulösen. In die22 Bodonyi Sándor levele a Tiszántúli Református Egyházkerületnek, Vác, 1803. október 30. [Der Brief von Sándor Bodonyi an den Reformierten Kirchendistriktes Jenseitsder-Theiß, Waitzen, den 30. Oktober 1803] TtREL I.1.b.42.806. nr. 6. Das Bistum von Waitzen (Vác) wurde von Sándor Bodonyi in der Tat als Stiftsvikar geleitet, da das Amt des Bischofs zu jener Zeit unbesetzt war und Bodonyi das Amt des Bischofs von Belgrad-SzendrĘ bekleidete. Ferenc Chobot, A váczi egyházmegye történeti névtára. ElsĘ rész. Az intézmények története (Vác: Pestvidéki Nyomda, 1915), 45. 23 Kis Bálint, “A szentesi reformáta ekklésia állapotja, nevezetesebb tagjainak élete, emlékezetet érdemlĘ dolgaik, változásaik,” in A Békési-Bánáti református Egyházmegye története, Hrsg. László Gilicze László und László Kormos (Békéscsaba/Szeged: Csongrád Megyei Levéltár, 1992), 352. 24 Szentesi Református Egyházközség jegyzĘkönyve 1798–1816 [Das Protokoll der reformierten Kirchengemeinde Szentes 1798–1816] TtREL I.375.b.2. 95. 25 Kis, A szentesi, 352.

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sem Fall trat der katholische Bischof von Tschanad (Csanád) überhaupt nicht für die Aussöhnung ein, denn er beruhigte sich erst dann, als einige hiesige reformierte Bewohner wegen dieser Affäre ins Gefängnis gesperrt wurden.26 Ich würde von den oben skizzierten Ereignissen die Rolle des Spottgedichts besonders hervorheben, denn dieser Vorfall schien in einer dörflichen Gesellschaft in literatursoziologischer Hinsicht so bedeutend zu sein, dass er von vielen heutigen Dichtern, die sich nach Popularität sehnen, beneidet werden könnte. Da nur wenige Dorfbewohner des Lesens kundig waren, wurde das Spottgedicht von der Person, die es zum ersten Mal verstanden hatte, den anderen, die um die Statue herum standen, laut vorgelesen. Das Gedicht wurde so „populär“, dass es sich „von Mund zu Mund“ in den beiden Gemeinden verbreitete. In ein paar Stunden—unabhängig davon, ob man lesen konnte oder nicht—war der Inhalt des Gedichts bereits für die ganze Bevölkerung bekannt. Die Spuren der religiösen Toleranz können auch anhand der Skandale entdeckt werden, die durch antireligiöse Äußerungen ausgelöst wurden. Die Pikanterie an der Sache war, dass einer dieser Skandale in einem Dorf passierte, in dem das Phänomen der Gegensätze zwischen den Glaubensgemeinschaften vorher unbekannt war, da die gesamte Dorfbevölkerung reformiert war. (Der Gutsherr war natürlich katholisch, aber innerhalb der betreffenden Ortschaft gab es keine Personen, die einer anderen Religion angehörten.)27 Im Jahr 1811 behauptete der Notar des Dorfes Köröstarcsa vor mehreren Leuten in der Kirche, dass es weder eine Hölle, noch einen Teufel gäbe. Nach dieser groben Verletzung des Glaubens an ein Jenseits nahm jedoch sein Gedankengang plötzlich eine ganz andere Richtung, er fing nämlich an, die Katholiken zu beleidigen, da die Seligkeit von ihnen unter Vermittlung der Jungfrau Maria und mit Hilfe des Purgatoriums vorgestellt werde, obwohl diese seiner Meinung nach auf diese Weise nicht erreichbar sei. Zum Schluss behauptete er noch, dass die Jungfrau Maria eine Hure und Jesus ein uneheliches Kind gewesen sei. Der Notar wurde deswegen durch das geistliche Gericht hart getadelt. Uns ist jedoch nicht das Maß der Strafe wesentlich, sondern die Tatsache, dass 26

Zurzeit sind uns keine Quellen bekannt, die die persönliche Meinung des Bischofs von Tschanad (Csanád), László KĘszeghy (1748–1828), enthalten. Aus den Zeugenverhörprotokollen des reformierten geistlichen Gerichts geht jedoch hervor, dass der Priester von Chiúineu-Criú (KisjenĘ) bereits bei früheren Gelegenheiten mit Reformierten in Konflikt geraten ist. Iratok az erdĘhegyi egyház ügyéhez, 1804 [Akten der Kirchengemeinde ErdĘhegy, 1804] TtREL I.1.b.43.843. 27 János Karácsonyi, Békés vármegye története. 2. kötet Különös rész. Az egyes városok községek, továbbá a birtokos és nemes családok története (Gyula: Békésvármegye közönsége, 1896), 211.

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von allen Reformierten, die während seiner Rede anwesend waren, sein Ausfall gegen die katholische Kirche verurteilt wurde.28 Sie erklärten nämlich ausdrücklich, dass die Glaubenssätze einer anderen Glaubensgemeinschaft nicht verspottet werden dürfen. Es ist jedoch vorstellbar, dass die Ursache dieser Toleranz vielmehr die Furcht vor Retorsionen war, als eine richtige Aussöhnung. Es steht jedenfalls fest, dass die Anwesenden versuchten, die Beleidigung der entgegengesetzten Religion zu vermeiden. Im Jahr 1796 wurde in Bekesch (Békés) durch das Verhalten des Lehrmeisters János Fábián ein Skandal ins Rollen gebracht. Er griff die Grundlagen des Christentums an, da er die Religion als menschliche Erfindung, die christlichen Glaubenssätze als nicht beweisbar, die Bibel als nur das Werk menschlicher Hände betrachtete, die Antitrinitarier in religiöser Hinsicht am höchsten schätzte, die Existenz des Jenseits leugnete und an die Auferstehung nicht glaubte. Er behauptete darüber hinaus, dass es ihm einerlei sei, ob er das Wort Gottes in einer katholischen oder reformierten Gemeinde verkündet.29 Für uns ist seine letzte Aussage besonders interessant, denn am Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts war es im Königreich Ungarn unvorstellbar, dass ein reformierter Prediger in einer katholischen Kirche das Wort Gottes verkündet. Wir wissen jedoch, dass in diesem Zeitraum die Gedanken bezüglich der Beseitigung der Spaltung zwischen den katholischen und protestantischen Kirchen wieder stärker wurden.30 Ich bin der Meinung, dass es im Fall von Fábián gar nicht darum ging. Aufgrund seiner Aussagen kann er vielmehr als ein Deist betrachtet werden, weil in der Philosophie des Deismus die Rückkehr zur natürlichen Religion eine wichtige Rolle spielte, die zugleich die völlige Abschaffung der religiösen Dogmen bedeutete. Nach der Auffassung der Deisten wurde zwar die Schöpfung der Welt von Gott vollzogen, er greift aber in die Geschehnisse der Welt nicht mehr ein. Deshalb sind ihrer Ansicht nach die verschiedenen religiösen Glaubenssätze völlig unnötig.31 Die Aussage von Fábián weist wahrscheinlich darauf hin, und nicht auf eine mögliche Union der Glaubensgemeinschaften. 28

Pap Mihály köröstarcsai jegyzĘ ügye, 1812 [Der Fall von Notar Mihály Pap aus Köröstarcsa, 1812] TtREL I.1.b.51.1048. 29 Fábián János tanító egyházfegyelmi ügye, 1796 [Der Fall des Lehrmeisters János Fábián, 1796] TtREL I.1.b.36.644. László Elek, “A jakobinus mozgalom és a felvilágosodás két üldözött Békés megyei képviselĘje: Réz József és Fábián János,” in MĦvelĘdés és irodalom Békés megyében. I. köt. A XVI. századtól a XIX. század derekáig, Hrsg. László Elek (Békéscsaba: Békés Megyei Múzeumok, 1985), 64-77. 30 Balázs, A felekezetek, 14-16. 31 Walter Kasper, Hrsg., Lexikon für Theologie und Kirche, Bd. 3. (Freiburg–Basel– Wien: Herder, 2006), 60-61.

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Die oben angeführten Beispiele kamen in gespannten Situationen vor, sie widerspiegeln daher nicht unbedingt den Standpunkt einer ganzen Gemeinschaft. Wurde wohl das alltägliche Leben der Einwohner der Reformierten Diözese von Bekesch (Békés) durch die Philosophie der religiösen Toleranz beeinflusst? Ich glaube schon. Die Testamente verraten uns viel über die religiösen Gewohnheiten, die von breiten Gesellschaftsschichten geübt wurden, denn durch sie hat man—unabhängig vom gesellschaftlichen Rang—versucht, sich auch um das Schicksal der Seele zu kümmern: Im Fall von Katholiken wurde die Anzahl und der Ort der Messen festgelegt, die für das Seelenheil des Verstorbenen gehalten werden sollten, während die Protestanten versuchten, ihre Treue gegenüber Gott zu beweisen. Die Reformierten waren der Meinung, dass der beste Beweis dafür ist, wenn sie der Kirche materielle Güter anbieten.32 Bei den Schlussfolgerungen muss man jedoch in Betracht ziehen, dass—im Gegensatz zu den ärmeren Volksschichten—nur wohlhabende Personen in der Lage waren, ein Testament zu errichten. Deshalb können diesbezügliche Daten im Blick auf eine bedeutende Schicht der Gesellschaft leider nicht erschlossen werden. Bei der Erforschung der Traditionen bezüglich der Testamentserrichtungen in Ungarn der frühen Neuzeit wurden mehrere Phänomene beobachtet, die mit dem alltäglichen Glaubensleben in Zusammenhang gebracht werden können. Trotzdem wurde—nach meinen Kenntnissen—nur Sámuel Szeremlei darauf aufmerksam, dass einige Personen in der zweiten Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts bei der Errichtung ihrer Testamente neben ihren Glaubensgemeinschaften auch an andere spendeten.33 Der Graf Antal Károlyi (1732–1791) berichtete in seinem Brief aus dem Jahr 1776, dass es regelmäßig vorkam, dass die reformierten Einwohner der Stadt Neumarkt an der Theiß in ihren Testamenten Spenden für die katholische Kirche hinterließen.34 Wir wissen jedoch nicht, warum sie es getan haben—es ist auch möglich, dass vom Priester großer Druck auf sie ausgeübt wurde. Man hat den Eindruck, dass der religiöse Synkre32 József Horváth, “Végrendeleti adalékok az Északnyugat-Dunántúl falusi temetkezési szokásainak kutatásához (1600-1850),” in Halál és kultúra, Hrsg. Péter Berta (Budapest: Janus/Osiris, 2001), 158. 33 Sámuel Szeremlei, A hódmezĘvásárhelyi református egyház története, Bd. 2 (HódmezĘvásárhely: Róth Antal, 1938), 149. 34 Gróf Károlyi Antal levele a hódmezĘvásárhelyi református egyháznak, Pest, 1776. január 29. [Der Brief von Graf Antal Károlyi an die reformierte Kirchengemeinde Neumarkt an der Theiß, Pest, den 29. Januar 1776] HódmezĘvásárhely Ótemplomi Református Egyházközség levéltára [Archiv der reformierten Kirchengemeinde Neumarkt an der Theiß], Gróf Károlyi család iratai 1713–1791.

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tismus im alltäglichen Leben auch an anderen Orten zu beobachten war, denn im Jahr 1778 beklagte sich der Bischof von Waitzen, dass die Katholiken, die in reformierten Haushalten in Neumarkt an der Theiß arbeiteten, nicht gefastet haben.35 Für alle Fälle sind in der Mehrheit der in Neumarkt an der Theiß erstellten Testamente Verfügungen zu finden, die besagen, dass Spenden gleichzeitig für die katholische, evangelische und reformierte Kirchen hinterlassen werden sollen. Diese Verfügungen waren jedoch nicht nur für reformierte Gläubige typisch, die Katholiken und Lutheraner gingen bezüglich ihres letzten Willens auch auf diese Art und Weise vor.36 Im westlichen Gebiet der Reformierten Diözese Bekesch (Békés) sind uns mehrere Testamente bekannt, die die Annäherung der verschiedenen Glaubensgemeinschaften beweisen. In Neumarkt an der Theiß spendeten unter anderem Pál Banga (?–1793) 1793 sowie György János Nagy (?– 1795) 1795 sowohl für die reformierte, als auch für die katholische Kirche.37 In Szentes wurden Spenden von einem griechisch-orthodoxen Händler, Emanuel Haris, und von Sámuel Fejes (?–1818), der wahrscheinlich reformiert war, gleichzeitig den katholischen, reformierten und evangelischen Kirchengemeinden und/oder den Armen gegeben.38 Es ist jedoch zu beachten, dass durch diejenigen Testamente, über die für Messen und 35

Béla Holl, A váci püspöki egyházlátogatási jegyzĘkönyvek protestáns vonatkozású bejegyzései a 18. században (Budapest: Magyar Egyháztörténeti Enciklopédia, 2004), 138-139. Dieses Phänomen war dem Grafen Antal Károlyi wahrscheinlich bekannt, da er als der Gutsherr des Ortes den Bischof von Waitzen, Christoph Migazzi (1714–1803), persönlich empfing, als dieser nach Neumarkt an der Theiß kam, um die hiesige Kirchengemeinde zu besuchen. Vom Bischof wurden während seines Aufenthalts in Neumarkt an der Theiß die religiösen Verirrungen der Bevölkerung gründlich untersucht, worüber er den Grafen sicherlich verständigte. Man darf jedoch nicht vergessen, dass, obwohl die Gutsherren von Neumarkt an der Theiß Katholiken waren, sie sich seit dem Anfang des 18. Jahrhunderts tolerant gegenüber der hiesigen reformierten Kirche verhielten. Im Gegensatz zum offiziellen Standpunkt der Habsburger wurde von ihnen das Leben der reformierten Kirche in Neumarkt an der Theiß nicht in hohem Maße erschwert. Vgl. Szeremlei, A hódmezĘvásárhelyi, 2. kötet, 46. 36 ErnĘ Tárkány SzĦcs, Vásárhelyi testamentumok (Budapest: Közgazdasági és Jogi Könyvkiadó, 1961), nr. 45, 47. 37 Tárkány SzĦcs, Vásárhelyi, nr. 45, 47. 38 László Blazovich, Csongrád megye évszázadai történelmi olvasókönyv: A honfoglalástól a polgári forradalom és szabadságharc végéig (Szeged: Csongrád Megyei Levéltár, 1985), 253-255. Fejes Sámuel végrendelete, Szentes, 1818. október 4 [Das Testament von Sámuel Fejes, Szentes, den 4. Oktober 1818] Magyar Nemzeti Levéltár—Szentesi Levéltár [MNL–SzL] [Ungarisches Nationalarchiv—Archiv der Stadt Szentes] Szentes Város Tanácsának iratai. Végrendeletek (1731–)1802–1849 (–1890), [Die Akten des Rates der Stadt Szentes. Testamente] V/A/102/k/2 nr. 328.

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das Heil der Seele gespendet wurde, andere Glaubensgemeinschaften nie gefördert wurden. Die einzige Ausnahme stellt das Testament von Ferenc Rózsa (?–1831) aus dem Jahr 1831 dar. Er schenkte eine beachtliche Summe der katholischen Kirche für die Befreiung seiner Seele aus dem Purgatorium, aber die reformierte Gemeinde wurde von ihm auch in bedeutendem Maße finanziell gefördert.39 Das Testament von István Limbai Nagy (?–1805) aus dem Jahr 1805 zeigt viel deutlicher die unsichere Beurteilung des Weges der Seele nach dem Tod: Der Inhalt seines Testaments wurde nämlich innerhalb von drei Tagen insgesamt dreimal verändert. Wahrscheinlich versuchten dabei sowohl der katholische Priester als auch der reformierte Prediger den Sterbenden für sich zu gewinnen, der Erblasser entschied sich jedoch für keine von ihnen eindeutig: Zuletzt hinterließ er beiden Kirchen je eine beachtliche Summe.40 Obwohl in Makó das erste Testament, durch das sowohl für reformierte, als auch für katholische Gemeinden gespendet wurde, erst aus dem Jahr 1821 erhalten geblieben ist,41 kann jedoch angenommen werden, dass bereits am Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts eine Art Toleranz unter den Glaubensgemeinschaften vorhanden war: Der Gutsherr von Makó war nämlich der römisch-katholische Bischof von Tschanad (Csanad), die Reformierten der Ortschaft durften am Ende des 18. Jahrhunderts ihre Religion doch frei ausüben. In den Quellen kommen nie Beschwerden in Bezug auf Gegensätze zwischen Katholiken und Reformierten vor, in den Protokollen erscheinen vielmehr die inneren Konflikte der Kirchengemeinde.42 Es ist wahrscheinlich dieser sozialen Einbettung zu verdanken, dass 1824 vom Prediger von Makó, Benjámin Szikszai (1772–1828), ein Buch über die zwischen den katholischen und protestantischen Gemeinden realisierbare religiöse Union veröffentlicht wurde, wobei von der Gemeinde kein Einwand gegen die Tätigkeiten ihres Predigers erhoben wurde.43

39 Rózsa Ferenc végrendelete, Szentes, 1831. november 29 [Das Testament von Ferenc Rózsa, Szentes, den 31. November 1831] MNL—SzL V/A/102/k/2 nr. 430. 40 Limbai Nagy István végrendelete, Szentes, 1805. január 2 [Das Testament von István Limbai Nagy, Szentes, den 2. Januar 1805] MNL—SzL V/A/102/k/2 nr. 357. 41 ErnĘ Tárkány SzĦcs, “Makói parasztok végrendeletei,” Ethnographia 85. (1974): 493-512. Varga János végrendelete, Makó, 1821. február 19 [Das Testament von János Varga, Makó den 19. Februar 1821] Magyar Nemzeti Levéltár—Makói Levéltár [Ungarisches Nationalarchiv—Archiv der Stadt Makó] MNL—ML V/1/o/2 nr. 337. 42 Ferenc Tóth, “Egyházak, oktatás, kultúra,” in Makó monográfiája, 4. köt. Makó története a kezdetektĘl 1849-ig, Hrsg. László Blazovich (Makó: 1993), 579-580. 43 Benjámin Szikszai, A római kathólikus és protestáns keresztyének között fenn álló unio (Szeged: Grünn Orbán, 1824).

Glaubensstreit und Religionstoleranz im südöstlichen Ungarn

243

Wenn die Gesamtheit der im westlichen Teil der Diözese Bekesch (Neumarkt an der Theiß, Makó, Szentes) erhalten gebliebenen Testamente untersucht wird, zeichnet sich ein genaueres Bild der auf das alltägliche Leben ausgeübten Wirkungen der religiösen Toleranz. Die wichtigste von ihnen war folgende: Vor der Verkündigung des Toleranzpatents kam es nur in Neumarkt an der Theiß vor, dass sich die Mitglieder der Glaubensgemeinschaft gegenseitig finanziell unterstützten. Diese Situation änderte sich nicht wesentlich bis zum Inkrafttreten des Gesetzes Nr. 26 von 1791, da über Testamente erst ab den 1790er Jahren für zwei oder mehrere Glaubensgemeinschaften gespendet wurde. Ein zahlenmäßiger Sprung kann erst ab den 1820er Jahren beobachtet werden, die Zahl der Testamente, über die gespendet wurde, ist jedoch im Vergleich zur Gesamtanzahl der Vermächtnisse ziemlich gering. Zwischen 1763 und 1832 sind im untersuchten Gebiet insgesamt etwa 1500 Testamente erhalten geblieben, von denen nur 30 Hinweise auf finanzielle Förderungen an Protestanten und Katholiken enthalten.44 Dies bedeutet, dass innerhalb der Gesellschaft bereits gewisse Zeichen für eine Versöhnung vorhanden waren, wobei die einzelnen Glaubensgemeinschaften nach wie vor stark separiert blieben. Zusammenfassend lässt sich Folgendes feststellen: Um die Wende des 18. und 19. Jahrhunderts ließen die Gegensätze zwischen Katholiken und Reformierten nicht nach, trotzdem konnten auf dem Gebiet der Diözese in verschiedenen Situationen Zeichen der religiösen Toleranz entdeckt werden. Im Rahmen dieser Studie war es nicht möglich, auch die Quellen in Bezug auf die anderen Glaubensgemeinschaften unter die Lupe zu nehmen, es kann aber festgestellt werden, dass der Gedanke der religiösen Toleranz in vielen Bereichen ihren Einfluss ausgeübt hat.

44

Vgl. MNL—SzL V/A/102/k/2, MNL—ML V/1/o/2, Magyar Nemzeti Levéltár— HódmezĘvásárhelyi Levéltár [Ungarisches Nationalarchiv—Archiv der Stadt Neumarkt an der Theiß] Végrendeletek 1730–1849 IV/1001/g/1 und 5.

PART VII: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY AND CONVERSION

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY IN EARLY EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CONVERSION NARRATIVES WRITTEN IN HUNGARIAN ÁGNES BARICZ This essay explores the ways in which the new religious identity of early modern converts to Catholicism was shaped by manuals of controversy and guides to religious conversion. Focusing on Hungarian-language printed narratives of conversion from the first half of the eighteenth century, I will show how the theological arguments contained in the mentioned manuals and guides were used to define the converts’ new identity. In particular, the aim of this essay is to look closely at a recently discovered conversion narrative attributed to the wife of the apothecary of Târgu Mure‫܈‬1 in Transylvania who had been converted from the Reformed religion by the Jesuits in 1741. The term “conversion narrative” is used here in a broad sense to refer to any account that describes an experience of conversion, be it a change from one religion or confession to another, or an intensification of faith without change of religious affiliation. In early modern literature, conversion narratives are often very closely related to other religious genres, such as religious polemics, sermons, and spiritual autobiographies, of which the last were relatively popular in seventeenth- and eighteenthcentury Puritanism and Pietism.2

1

Place names appear in the official language of the country in which they are currently located. Târgu Mure‫ ܈‬is referred to as Marosvásárhely in Hungarian, and its historical name in German was Neumarkt am Mieresch. 2 Conversion narratives focus mainly on spiritual experience and processes of spiritual perfection. See, for example, Kathleen Lynch, Protestant Autobiography in the Seventeenth-Century Anglophone World (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012); Jonathan Strom, “Pietist Conversion Narratives and Confessional Identity,” in Conversion and the Politics of Religion in Early Modern Germany, ed. David M. Luebke,

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The works discussed in this paper are narratives of conversion to Catholicism and can be described as narratives of a conversio ad ecclesiam,3 a conversion to the church. With direct reference to confessional conversions from the mid-sixteenth century onwards, Ute MenneckeHaustein concludes that conversion to Catholicism is a (re)turn to the Church, to the Church principle as opposed to the Protestant Scripture principle.4 In the cases I review, the description of conversion is inseparable from theological arguments that supported the convert’s decision; such arguments were considered to be highly effective means by which a reader might be led towards the true church. These narratives also served as examples to convince and convert others as well, and accordingly some include detailed guidance on the various steps involved in the conversion process. The religious and political contexts in the Hungarian Kingdom and Transylvania differed considerably at the beginning of the eighteenth century, nevertheless they had two significant things in common: the Habsburg rule and the privileged status of the Catholic Church. The Counter-Reformation had proved successful in Royal Hungary in the first half of the 1600s, so much so in fact that by the last decades of the century political and religious actions could escalate into violent persecutions against Protestants. Transylvania, which had been a Protestant principality for a century and a half, also became subordinate to Vienna after the death of Prince Michael I Apafi in 1690.5 After a short period of relief for the Protestant churches during the War of Independence (1703–1711) led by Francis II Rákóczi (1676–1735), the Catholic Church gradually regained its positions and started to rebuild its institutional system in the Hungarian Kingdom and in Transylvania. The religious policy of the Habsburg court in

Jared Poley, Daniel C. Ryan, and David Warren Sabean (New York: Berghahn Books, 2012), 135-152. 3 Ute Mennecke-Haustein, Conversio ad Ecclesiam. Der Weg des Friedrich Staphylus zurück zur vortridentinischen katholischen Kirche (Heidelberg: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2003), 38. 4 Mennecke-Haustein, Conversio ad Ecclesiam, 33-38. 5 For further details, see Katalin Péter, “The Later Ottoman Period and Royal Hungary,” in A History of Hungary, ed. Peter F. Sugar (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1994), 100-120; Bálint KeserĦ, “Shaping Protestant Networks in Habsburg Transylvania: the Beginnings (1686–1699),” in A Divided Hungary in Europe: Exchanges, Networks and Representations, 1541–1699; Volume 2: Diplomacy, Information Flow and Cultural Exchange, ed. Szymon BrzeziĔski and Áron Zarnóczki (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014), 183-202.

Religious Controversy in Early Eighteenth-Century Conversion Narratives 249

the first half of the eighteenth century did not allow open violence against Protestants; however, the Habsburgs persisted in their repression.6

A Woman’s Conversion Narrative from the Mid-Eighteenth Century Although conversion narrative was a popular genre in early modern Europe, Hungarian-language narratives are scarce; as for those written by or attributed to a woman, only a single one is known from the period in question—namely, the one discussed in this essay. The small-format work entitled Egy nemes, és tisztesseges kálvinista aszszonynak levele7 (The letter of a noble and respectable Calvinist woman) was published by the Jesuits in Cluj-Napoca8 in 1742, and until recently was unknown to literary researchers.9 Its ascribed author, Borbála Karantsi (?–before 1787), converted to Catholicism together with her husband, the Lutheran apothecary of Târgu Mure‫܈‬, Simon Schwartz (1703?–1765), in 1741. Several sources document their conversion and life, including Jesuit diaries and the Litterae Annuae, parish registers, and some pieces of contemporary religious literature.10 6

On the situation of the Catholic Church and on decrees confirming religious inequalities, see Henry Marczali, Hungary in the Eighteenth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1910/2014), 247-288. 7 Egy nemes, és tisztesseges kálvinista aszszonynak levele, mellyben a’ Sz. Lélek tanitásából, erös, és gyözhetetlen okait adgya édes annyának, miért akarna ö a’ romai közönséges egyedül üdvözitö szent hitre állani: a’ mint-is azoktól meg-gyözettetvén, már arra állott [The letter of a noble and respectable Calvinist woman to her mother, in which she gives strong and invincible reasons, derived from the teaching of the Holy Spirit, for her wish to embrace the Roman Catholic faith, the only one that ensures salvation: and having been convinced by those, she had already embraced that religion] (Kolozsvár/Cluj: Akadémiai bötükkel, 1742). 12mo format, 33 [32] numbered pages. Hereafter referred to as Letter. 8 Hung. Kolozsvár, Germ. Klausenburg, Lat. Claudiopolis. 9 The Jesuits are known to have been circulating the booklet among the people at religious feasts. As for its reception, the same source claims that a Reformed minister, upon seeing the great effect of the booklet on his flock, forbade its reading. Historia Societatis Jesu Claudiopoli ab anno millesimo septingentesimo primo, ab exordio scilicet seculi post Christum natum decimi octavi degentis, National Széchényi Library, Manuscripts, Fol. Lat. 2039, 499. 10 On the narrative and the background of the conversion, see Ágnes Baricz, “Felekezetváltás a 18. század közepén Marosvásárhelyen: a patikáriusné katolizálása és annak okairól írt levele,” in Nyelv, lelkiség és regionalitás a közép- és kora újkorban: ElĘadások a VII. Nemzetközi Hungarológiai Kongresszuson, Kolozsvár, 2011. au-

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The religious zeal and persistent activity of the Jesuit missions throughout Transylvania was bearing fruit already in the first decades of the eighteenth century. In Târgu Mure‫܈‬, the Jesuit mission started its work in 1702.11 The Jesuits played a crucial role in modifying the confessional proportions in the region12 and also had considerable influence on the town government. The Catholic community of Târgu Mure‫ ܈‬began to gather strength during the 1730s, when they first started to demand equal representation in the senate of the town, which had, up until then, been exclusively Protestant.13 It was in this context that Borbála Karantsi and her husband converted to Catholicism. Contemporary sources provide some insights into their life and social ascension: in a few years after their conversion, they became members of the most influential circles in the town, and Simon Schwartz, enjoying the support of the Jesuits, was elected senator in 1748, and he also applied, without success, to the position of prime judge in 1760.14

Authorship The Letter is made up of two parts: the conversion account attributed to Borbála Karantsi, signed as “Beatrix, clothed with Christ,” and an anonymous epilogue addressing the readers and urging them to follow the woman’s example. In both parts, the authorship of the woman is declared. The simple language of the account, the straightforward arguments, and gusztus 22–27, ed. Csilla Gábor, Ágnes Korondi, Katalin Luffy, Zsombor Tóth, and András F. Balogh (Kolozsvár/Cluj: Egyetemi MĦhely Kiadó, 2013), 342-361. 11 They attained the status of a parish in 1727; their parish records document conversions, too. On the work of the Jesuits in Târgu Mure‫܈‬, see József Marton, “A marosvásárhelyi katolikus egyházközség története,” in Millenniumi megemlékezés. Marosvásárhely 2000. április 7–8, ed. Géza Finna (Marosvásárhely: Juventus, 2000), 202-207. 12 The data of the parish register show that not a year passed without at least a dozen conversions. Matricula ecclesiae parochialis Maros Vásárhelyiensis ab anno 1739 usque ad annum 1770 inclusive, the Târgu Mure‫ ܈‬Branch of the National Archives of Romania, Collection of Registers, Roman Catholic Parish Records. 13 Out of the 12 magistrates, 6 were Catholic; the offices of prime judge and deputy judge were held alternately by representatives of the two confessions. Sándor PálAntal, Marosvásárhely XVII–XVIII. századi jogszabályai és polgárnévsorai (Marosvásárhely: Mentor, 2006), 28-42. 14 They formed connections with a large part of the Catholic élite by becoming godparents to their children: Matricula, the register of baptisms. On his senatorship, see Diarium missionis Societatis Iesu Marus-Vásá[r]heliensis. Tomus III (National Library of Romania—Batthyaneum, Ms XI 99), 103r. On his attempt to become a prime judge, see Pál-Antal, Marosvásárhely, 148.

Religious Controversy in Early Eighteenth-Century Conversion Narratives 251

the choice to rely exclusively on biblical references in argumentation form the basis of the Letter, and in turn powerfully vindicate the ability of a lay person with no theological education to author such a work. Nevertheless, the sources identified in the Letter and the nature of its composition suggest that it was shaped by someone well-versed in theological literature and with some experience of writing. Manuscript sources point to the Jesuit Michael Kattics (1683–1756)15 as the author (or at least co-author), a figure who can be connected to several other religious publications. The Reformed response prepared to the woman’s narrative and circulated in manuscript in the years following her conversion claims that Kattics was the “secretary” of the Letter.16 As president of the Confraternity of the Agony of Christ in Târgu Mure‫܈‬, Kattics is known to have obtained financial support for the printing of a booklet which could be used by the sodality.17 He is also the most likely author of another religious book written in Hungarian, the Pais (Shield),18 which constituted an important

15 Ladislaus Lukács, Catalogus generalis seu Nomenclator biographicus personarum Provinciae Austriae Societatis Jesu (1551–1773) (Romae/Rome: Institutum Historicum S. I., 1987–1988), II, 690, Michael Katich. 16 A nemes és nemzetes aszszonynak amint tudjuk a M. Vásarhelyi patekariusnenak levelére . . . anyai szelid vallas tétele (Romanian Academy Library, Cluj Branch, Ms. R. 1115), 1r-v. The manuscript uses the Latin secretarius to refer to Kattics‫ތ‬s role in the composition of the Letter. This term allows several interpretations ranging from that of Kattics advising the woman on the content but leaving the writing completely to her to that of Kattics himself putting the text of the Letter on paper in the convert’s name. However, the available data concerning Kattics’s literary activity and the sources of the Letter suggest his involvement in the shaping of both the content and form of the work. 17 Diarium III, 22r; Historia Missionis Societatis Jesu cum ingressu ejusdem in oppidum Siculicale M Vásárhely Anno 1702 inchoata, et subsequentibus continuata (Târgu Mure‫ ܈‬Archives of the Archdiocese of Alba Iulia, Parish Archives of Târgu Mure‫)܈‬, 244. The booklet itself is most probably a book of prayers related to pious death (a translation from Latin, prepared, in all likelihood, by the president of the confraternity): A’ Halalrol való mindennapi emlekezes (Kolozsvár/Cluj: Akadémiai bötükkel Becskereki Mihály által, 1742). 18 Az Isten igéjében fundáltt világos igazságnak paisa, melly az igaz hitnek oltalmazására, mind azok ellen, kik azt ostromolják, most a’ magyar híveknek kezekbe adatik [A Shield of the Clear Truth Founded on the Word of God] (Kolozsvár/Cluj: Akadémiai bötükkel Feij András által, 1741). Hereafter: Shield. The Jesuit writer and the patroness remain anonymous in the publication. In 1741, the three Jesuits working at the mission house in Târgu Mure‫ ܈‬were entrusted with the preparation of this book. It was already in press before the end of the year, thanks to the generous patronage of Countess Zsuzsanna Petki (d. 1750), see Historia Missionis, 246. Kat-

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source of the Letter. The duties Kattics was entrusted with after his reassignment to Cluj at the end of 1741 also support the idea of his authorship: he was appointed librarian and curator of the Bibliotheca Catechetica, a newly founded series which aimed to provide the Catholic community with edifying works—Beatrix’s Letter being its first issue.19

Motives of Conversion and Argumentation The conversion narrative of the Letter is set out in three parts: the introduction outlines the first doubts of the woman regarding her religion and her growing anxieties that she might not achieve salvation; a series of arguments then follow which support the truth of the Catholic Church on the one hand, and attempt to prove the fallacies of the Protestant teachings on the other; finally, the convert addresses her mother, and in a strong, emotionally charged monologue, turns to God, pleading for justice, that is, the justification and eternal life promised to all those who obey the word of God. According to the narrative, this woman first experienced doubts about her religion whilst reading an old Reformed agenda.20 For here she discovered prescribed elements of ritual and worship that were already disapproved of by the eighteenth-century Reformed Church. She expressed her concerns to learned theologians, but they were unable to reassure her. However, the immediate cause of Beatrix‫ތ‬s further inquiries about religion was that in this wicked world I have no delight since God has not given me a child, and so that I do not become eternally unhappy in the other world, I have resolved to find out the truth in this matter, to the best capacity of my feeble mind.21 (p. 6)

tics is known to have been in contact with the Petki ladies during that summer, see Diarium III, 23r. 19 On his duties in Târgu Mure‫( ܈‬1741) and Cluj (1742), see Ladislaus Lukács, Catalogi personarum et officiorum Provinciae Austriae S.I. (Romae/Rome: Institutum Historicum S. I., 1994), VIII, 482, 493; Diarium III, 26r-27r. 20 This is most probably the irenic agenda of János Samarjai [Johannes Samaraeus], Az helvetiai vallason levö ecclesiaknak egyhazi ceremoniajokrol es rend tartasokrol valo könyvetske (LĘcse/Levoþa: Brewer, 1636). 21 “Nékem ebben a’ rosz világban semmi gyönyörüségem nincsen: mivel az Isten gyermeket sem adott: azért hogy a’ más világon-is örökké bóldogtalan ne legyek, eltökélém magamban, hogy bizony, a’ mennyire az én vékony elmém fel-éri, végére megyek ennek a’ dolognak.” Childlessness, as it will be discussed further on, could

Religious Controversy in Early Eighteenth-Century Conversion Narratives 253

To support the conversion, the narrative enumerates several “invincible” arguments centred around some of the main themes of the CatholicProtestant polemics of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.22 The first three arguments, asserting the continuity of the true church as regards its temporal existence, its rites, and its teachings, seek to prove that the Reformed Church failed to preserve the uniformity of their rites and ceremonies (p. 4-6), that Protestant denominations were new compared to the Catholic Church which could be traced back without interruption to its founder, Jesus Christ (pp. 7-9), and that the Reformed Church was doctrinally at variance, since the ministers in her town seemed to disagree not only on different theological questions but even on something as fundamental as the Creed (pp. 9-10). The main concern of the fourth, fifth, and sixth arguments was Holy Scripture and the unity of the true church. The fourth argument claimed that Protestant teachings could not be found in the Bible but only “in the heads of the ministers.” It was pointed out that Protestant denominations contradicted one another in important theological matters although they all declared that their teaching was based on Scripture. In contrast, Catholic doctrine was said to be constant and based on the teachings of the church fathers and councils, and ultimately on the Bible (pp. 11-13). Argument five contained a denial that Calvinists taught in accordance with the Bible, or indeed followed its teachings. The argument stems from the promise of the invincible Church built on Peter and the idea of one fold and one shepherd, that is, the unity of the Church. It is claimed in the argument that Protestant ministers, just “hanging on to the skirts of their wives,” do not seek to put this idea of one fold in practice, while Catholic priests make eminent missionary efforts in all parts of the world (pp. 13-15). The sixth argument simply reproves the Reformed Church for having removed whole books from the Bible (pp. 15-16). The arguments described so far were made up of two parts: one refuted the Protestant teaching, the other confirmed the Catholic position on the respective matter. The seventh argument condemned Reformed ministers for spreading lies about the Catholic Church, especially about the veneration of images and the invocation of saints (pp. 17-19). Finally, the eighth argument exhorted readers to leave the Reformed faith on the grounds that it was the Catholic Church that the pagan Hungarians were converted to after the stigmatize married women and couples in early modern Transylvanian society because it was often considered to be the result of God’s punishment. See footnote 39. 22 On topics occurring in Hungarian polemical literature in the early seventeenth century, see János Heltai, MĦfajok és mĦvek a XVII. század magyarországi könyvkiadásában (1601–1655) (Budapest: Universitas, 2008), 111-112.

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establishment of the Hungarian Kingdom. Furthermore, the holy kings Stephen and Ladislas were, in the Kingdom of Hungary, considered saints even by Protestants, although they obviously had been members of the Catholic Church. However, as Beatrix argues, it is only in the true religion that one can become a saint (pp. 21-22). In sum, the first argument introduces the doubts that precede the woman’s conversion, the following five engage with several key topics of religious controversy, whilst the last two close the polemic and lead to the decision to convert. The debates in the arguments present a spiritual and intellectual struggle. Beatrix’s knowledge of the Bible ensures the progress from one argument to another, and also from doubt to conversion; after each step, she suddenly remembers another and another biblical text, each of which arouses a new doubt about her religion (pp. 10, 17).

Sources By the eighteenth century, a large pool of well-tested theological arguments was available for authors of religious works to choose from according to their needs, knowledge, and skills. Although the arguments of the Letter cover the most common themes of theological controversy of the period, they nevertheless point to several well-identifiable sources. The Shield, mentioned above, is doubtless the most important source of the Letter attributed to Borbála Karantsi. Itself a compilation of several pieces of Catholic apologetical literature, it gives theoretical and practical guidance, on a level that even the simplest audience could take in, for debates about faith, which, according to the anonymous Jesuit author, inevitably occur in confessionally diverse regions. The aim of the Shield was to summarize several important apologetical works in order to make their contents available to the Hungarian-speaking Catholics and non-Catholics of Transylvania (p. 2). In addition to providing a series of arguments in favour of the Catholic faith, the Shield arms its readers with debating strategies, even, for example, identifying possible techniques of the adversary and advising on ways to combat them.23

23

The Shield consists of six parts: Part one shows how to repel a siege against the Catholic religion, part two offers a short method of averting possible attacks, part three advises on how to respond to opponents of the Catholic religion, part four sums up the main reasons why one can safely remain in the Catholic religion or convert to it (both a longer and a shorter formula of profession of faith is also attached to this section), part five puts Protestant religions under examination, and finally part six contains a short catechism of the Catholic Church.

Religious Controversy in Early Eighteenth-Century Conversion Narratives 255

The Letter fully assimilated the fourth part of the Shield entitled A brief summary of all the main reasons why each and every person can safely remain in the Catholic religion or convert to it (pp. 121-130). This part outlines twelve short reasons why non-Catholics are not true Christians, and another twelve which attempt to prove why Catholic worship is the true religion. The majority of these appear in the conversion narrative of the Letter, which explains and buttresses them with biblical texts and references.24 The second part of the Shield provided the author of the Letter with practical advice on how to discuss religion with Reformed theologians. This author also adopts the suggestion that Protestants should be pressed to defend their teaching exclusively from the Bible, especially given their insistence on the primacy of Holy Scripture (pp. 67-72). Accordingly, the Letter cleaves closely to the wording of the Bible, and when confronting the arguments and explanations of Reformed ministers who attempt to keep the woman in their fold, Beatrix refutes each of these using biblical texts that she has “suddenly remembered.” The arguments that appear in part four of the Shield, but are left out of the Letter, cover issues like the sacraments and certain signs of the presence of God in the Catholic Church, such as miracles, exorcism, the supremacy of the pope, and so forth. These might have been omitted simply by reason of their length, or because they were considered too sensitive in a community with a Protestant majority. The second source identified in the conversion narrative is the Jesuit Martinus Szent-Ivany’s (1633–1705) Négy rövid elsĘ könyvecskék (The first four brief booklets), a collection of polemical writings, first published in Hungarian in 1702.25 It also served as one of the main sources of the previously discussed Shield. Its four books are bound together in the Hungarian edition by their paratexts and, taken together, represent one of the most comprehensive Hungarian-language works of religious controversy from the first half of the eighteenth century. While the main texts offer a repository of thematically grouped theological arguments, the paratexts present a (fictitious) conversion account. The foreword to the first book of this work contains a letter of a young Protestant nobleman. It describes how he, having wavered in his faith, 24

See Shield, 121-122 (the first three and the seventh argument of the Letter), 123124 (arguments four and six), and 129-130 (argument eight). 25 Negy rövid elsö könyvetskek, mellyeket a’ hitben támadott versengesekrül írt, és külön külön ki-bocsátott Jesus Társoságában lévö Szent-iványi Márton pap és theologus (Nagyszombat/Trnava: Academiai bötükkel Hörmann János által, 1702). Hereafter: Four booklets.

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turned to Protestant theologians, to whom he expressed his doubts and asked for reassurance. Not receiving an answer, he then approached a Catholic theologian, who, during their conversations, convinced him about the truth of the Catholic religion. In the foreword to the fourth book, the young nobleman summarizes the process of his conversion, detailing his initial desperation, the ensuing discussions on religion, his thorough reading of theological and polemical literature, religious debates, continuous praying, solitary deliberation, and finally the decision of converting to the Catholic faith (pp. 368-369). His decision was preceded by a proper spiritual preparation, followed by a rigorous, rational examination of the arguments on both sides, the methodology of which he also shares with his audience (pp. 368-371). Several arguments from this fourth book reappear in arguments five and eight of the Letter, which deal respectively with the achievement of church unity through missionary work and with the authority and example of Hungarian ancestors.26 The topics and the wording seem to point conclusively to the fact that Szent-Ivany’s work is the direct source in these cases. The third source of Beatrix’s conversion narrative is the book entitled Nyolc okok (Eight reasons).27 Some of the arguments of the Letter, but mainly its formal characteristics and the description of the conversion process, can be traced back to this treatise, which in fact is an eighteenth-century anonymous reprint of Peter Pázmány’s (1570–1637) work Bizonyos okok (Solid reasons) from 1631.28 The 1631 original can be linked to Count Adam Batthyány’s (1610–1659) conversion to Catholicism in 1629, in which Pázmány was himself personally involved. Dedicating his book to Batthyány’s Lutheran mother, Pázmány wrote it in the form of a letter 26

Four booklets, 537-540; Letter, 13-15 and 185-209, especially 208-209; Letter, 21-22. 27 Nyolcz okok, mellyekre nézve egy tudós, nevezetes fö-ember megvetvén az új vallásokat az Romai hitre tért [Eight reasons why a learned nobleman rejected the new religions and turned to the Catholic Church] (Kolozsvár/Cluj: Akademiai bötükkel, 1738). Hereafter: Eight reasons. 28 Péter Pázmány, Bizonyos okok, mellyek erejetül viseltetven egy fö ember az uj vallasok töreböl kifeslet, es az romai ecclesianak kebelébe szállott (Pozsony/ Bratislava: [typ. Societatis Jesu], 1631). This very popular work was reprinted many times in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; on its editions and impact, see Heltai, MĦfajok és mĦvek, 124. The Jesuit academy of Cluj published the Nyolcz okok both in 1736 and in 1738, omitting the author‫ތ‬s name, but without any change in the main text. Since it was a useful instrument of missionary work, the mission house of Târgu Mure‫ ܈‬obtained a large number of its copies, see Diarium II, 162r.

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in which he explained the count’s motives of conversion. It is clear that Pázmány’s work was not a direct source for the Letter, for although all the topics treated in Pázmány’s work, except for the Eucharist, can be found in the Letter, there is little overlap between the two in terms of wording and explanations. However, when neither the Shield nor Szent-Ivany’s work adduce scriptural evidence for their statements, the biblical references in the Letter seem to coincide with the texts in Pázmány’s work.29 The steps of Beatrix’s conversion are very similar to what is described in the Eight reasons; with a few minor exceptions, she walks the same path as Pázmány’s young aristocrat did: her love of books and reading trigger her initial doubts; she shows keen interest in the matters of religion; Reformed ministers cannot give her satisfactory answers, and, as a result, she is brought to Catholic priests and then to conversion. Besides the common features—both were troubled by anxiety, even despair, at the thought of having their salvation at risk in their current religion, both initially abhorred the Catholic religion, and both prayed assiduously for guidance and enlightenment—the inner process of conversion is more fully expounded in the Letter. In Beatrix’s case, the moving descriptions of inner struggle, including prayers and supplications, have a crucial role, as these regularly result in the discovery of a new argument supporting the Catholic teaching. The stronger her doubts and struggles are, the more she feels that God fills her with love of the Catholic religion. Eventually, she admits that she cannot resist the inclinations of her soul and kick against the spur of God (pp. 22-23), and expresses her strong faith and reliance in God (p. 24). Leaving all her worldly worries behind, she decides to focus exclusively on her salvation and, after long periods of praying and crying, she is reassured of the rightness of her feelings and believes that a just God would never condemn her for a decision induced by Himself (p. 26 [25]). The Letter closes with a strong dramatic monologue addressed to the Lord, and we see Beatrix defending her conversion on Judgement Day. Identifying herself with the stray lamb which in the biblical parable is sought out and returned to the fold by the Good Shepherd, she stresses that in her case the search works the other way round: Look, how much I have been praying and you have not given me the Spirit of your grace! Where is your righteousness, my Lord? . . . I ran not from You but to You, I never expected You to search for me, but helped by

29

For example, in the case of the eighth argument of the Letter, see Letter, 22; Four booklets, 216; Shield, 122-123; Eight reasons, 16.

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Chapter Seventeen Your grace, I searched for You, and still, You have not received me among your flock! . . . Where is your mercy, my Lord? (pp. 27-28)30

The closing lines of the monologue demonstrate the unwavering faith of the woman, and her trust in God and in the correctness of her decision: If I am deceived, it is you who deceived me because it is your promise I believed and trusted. But I know such a thing will never happen because I know whom I have trusted. (p. 28)31

Finally, a fourth source can be identified in the Letter—the Jesuit Joannes Berzeviczi’s32 (1692–1750) work entitled Egy el tévelyedett juhotskának oktatása (A teaching guide for a lost sheep).33 In addition to the parable of the lost sheep, which frequently appeared in contemporary conversion narratives, there are further similarities between Berzeviczi’s work and Borbála Karantsi’s account. According to Berzeviczi, the lost sheep is well aware of its erroneous ways but still believes in the possibility of its salvation. Therefore, the sheep begs the Lord to set out on his search so it can be brought back to his fold. The fervent prayers, the various expressions of trust and complete reliance on God, the repeated appeals to the mercy, righteousness, and truthfulness of God might have influenced similar sections in the Letter. The idea of one fold and one shepherd as well as the closing profession of faith are all reminiscent of Beatrix’s monologue:

30

“Imé én téged mennyit kértelek, még-is nékem meg-nem adtad az igasságnak lelkét! Hol Uram a’ te igasságod? . . . Imé én nem tölled, hanem hozzád futottam; nem vártam, hogy engem keress, hanem a’ te kegyelmedtöl segitetvén én Téged kerestelek, még-is a’ te aklodba, a’ te juhaid közzé nem fogattál engem! . . . Hol Uram hát a’ te irgalmasságod?” 31 “Ha meg-csalattam, te csaltál-meg engem: mert a‫ ތ‬te igéretidben hivén, és bizván csalatkoztam-meg. De tudom, hogy az nem lészen: mert tudom, kinek hittem.” 32 Berzeviczi participated in Transylvanian missions, and he was professor at the academy of Cluj from 1728 to 1731, then again from 1740 to 1742, and once again from 1745 to 1750. Lukács, Catalogus, I, 95. 33 Egy el tévelyedett juhotskának mennyei pásztorától kért s nyert vezérlö oktatása. Avagy a' Kristus Jesusnak egy üdvössége el-nyeréséért szorgalmatoskodó Lélekkelvaló nyájas csevegése [A teaching guide for a lost sheep by the heavenly shepherd] (Kassa/Košice: Academiai bötükkel, 1731). Hereafter: Teaching guide.

Religious Controversy in Early Eighteenth-Century Conversion Narratives 259 But my Lord, if all that which you clearly explained to me and convinced me to believe is really true—as it cannot be otherwise because that would make you untruthful—[...] (p. 303)34

There is, however, one significant difference in the application of the parable: Berzeviczi’s lost sheep waits for the Lord to fulfil its desire for salvation, whereas the Letter insists on the efforts made by the sheep to find its way.

Building the Image of a Woman Convert In the preface to a prayer-book dedicated to Baroness Mária Nikházi, who converted to Catholicism in 1737, it is stated that the greatest deed possible for a female convert is to give not only herself but also her children as gifts to God and to the Catholic Church.35 Other virtues of a woman convert include piety, humility, faith, endurance, love, and also wisdom, of which the last is acquired through perseverance in reading the Bible and devotional books. She is portrayed as a wise woman, efficient in managing her household and in preparing her own soul for the reception of the Lord.36 Likewise, the Letter attributed to Borbála Karantsi (Beatrix) supports the image of a well-read woman educated in her religion. She is depicted as one who is able not only to read Protestant and Catholic books and make comparisons between them, but also to write up an account of her own conversion. She also evinces a good knowledge of the Bible, relying on its authority whenever she takes a stance either in matters of religion or regarding controversial topics in her debates with Reformed ministers.37 Her analysis of religious arguments is less “erudite” than that of the two noblemen referred to in the Letter‫ތ‬s sources, and she discusses only a few of the more important topics. This makes her account more accessible to the less learned, often illiterate inhabitants of villages and towns, and also to women. In addition to her intellectual qualities, the woman convert

34

“De Uram, ha mind ezek, a‫ ތ‬miket ily világosan ésmértettél, és el hitettél-is velem, úgy vannak, a‫ ތ‬mint nem is lehetnek külömben; mert egyébaránt te, igaz mondó Isten nem vólnál.” See Teaching guide, 2-12, 48-49. 35 [Péter Ágoston], Szívek kincse, avagy a Krisztus szenvedésén fohászkodásokkal teljes könyvecske (Kassa/ Košice: Academiai bötükkel, 1737), 23v. 36 Ibid., 17r-23v. 37 Letter, 10 and 17. A similar way of introducing new arguments can be found in Four booklets, 387 and 388, and in Eight reasons, 9.

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is characterized by piety, faith, and utmost trust in God.38 Throughout the narrative, what moves her from one step to the next is a new doubt and an answer to that, usually in form of a biblical quotation which occurs to her after a sequence of praying, fasting, and crying. Her soul moves along a trajectory from doubt to deep conviction that her inclination towards the Catholic faith is not a temptation but an act of God’s grace. By accepting this grace and converting to the Catholic Church, Beatrix finds a remedy for her worldly afflictions. Her worldly unhappiness caused on account of her childlessness is presented as the trigger for her search for the true religion, which she wants to find in order to avoid eternal unhappiness, that is, damnation after death. Being married but childless could cause a social stigma in the Transylvania of those times, just as it could in other parts of Europe. It was a condition largely believed to be caused by the sinfulness of the afflicted person. Women were considered to perform their duty in society by bearing children, and not doing so could greatly impair their social status.39 Beatrix’s determined search for the true religion and her conversion to Catholicism together with her husband is construed as a journey from worldly unhappiness to the possibility of eternal happiness together, in the sight of God. The couple’s conversion to the true religion thus eventually bears the fruit of their life together.40 Beatrix’s narrative reverses the parable of the lost sheep by that it presents the woman convert in an unusual position: she is not a weak lamb waiting for the shepherd (or, as Mária Nikházi is presented, patiently waiting for the Divine Spouse) but a determined and active searcher for the one fold promised in the Bible where it would be possible for her to take a place next to the other lambs. The Letter portrays an unhappy, pious 38

Most sources of the Letter emphasize the importance of the intellect and wisdom, both of which are related to the Catholic concept of man’s active co-operation in justification (as opposed to the Protestant idea of complete passivity). The role given to intelligence and volition in this process is considered crucial in the success of early modern conversions to Catholicism, as per: Eric-Oliver Mader, “Conversion Concepts in Early Modern Germany,” in Conversion and the Politics of Religion in Early Modern Germany, ed. David M. Luebke, Jared Poley, Daniel C. Ryan, and David Warren Sabean (New York: Berghahn Books, 2012), 37. 39 Infertile women were considered suspicious and often social outcasts; see Andrea Fehér, “The Lord My God Has Given My Wife a Child: Childbirth in 18th-century Transylvania,” Transylvanian Review 21, supplement no. 2 (2012): 222-223. 40 In her narrative, Beatrix finds it important to absolve her husband from the charges of influencing her in the choice of religion, emphasizing that they both reached the same decision after individual consideration, without knowing each other‫ތ‬s intentions, but eventually embracing the Catholic faith together; see Letter, 23.

Religious Controversy in Early Eighteenth-Century Conversion Narratives 261

woman searching her soul for God’s will who, having accepted that will, also acts according to it by actively seeking the truth in religion and then sharing it with others. The emphasis on the active character makes her very similar to the male converts presented in the sources of her narrative.41

Conclusions Religious polemics and conversion are closely connected in the above presented works; in some of them the conversion account only provides the framework and the opportunity for controversy. This aspect of early modern religious controversy is related to the important role of intellect and volition in conversion, as seen by the Catholic Church after the Council of Trent. The arguments used in the Letter to support the conversion of a noblewoman to Catholicism centre around several of the basic themes of Catholic-Protestant polemics: the temporal continuity of the true church and its doctrine, Holy Scripture as the basis of the church’s teaching, the unity of the true church stemming from the idea of the promised one fold and one shepherd, the fallacies of the Protestant teachings, and so forth. All these topics were widely present in the polemics of the Hungarian Kingdom since the early seventeenth century. The main sources of the Letter are mutually interconnected. The Shield drew, among several other works, on Szent-Ivany’s Four booklets, which too served as a direct source for Beatrix’s Letter. The Four booklets, in turn, relied on Pázmány’s Solid reasons (1631) and on his famous Kalauz.42 The Solid reasons, identical with the Eight reasons used as an inspiration for the Letter, is considered by literary historians to be one of the few Catholic polemical works that were originally written to address, support, and offer justification to those aristocrats who were contemplating conversion to Catholicism, and to form the intellectual background for 41 Being active in matters of religion, especially participating in religious polemics, was not generally considered to be a respectable activity for a woman. Seventeenth-century Jesuit writers of Catholic-Protestant polemics condemned Protestant women for such misuse of their religious knowledge; see Keith P. Luria, Sacred Boundaries: Religious Coexistence and Conflict in Early Modern France (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2005), 200-203. In her Letter, Beatrix included a refutation of several theological arguments espoused by Reformed ministers, thereby aptly illustrating the adversaries’ incompetence. 42 Péter Pázmány, Isteni igazsagra vezerleo kalavz (Pozsony/Bratislava: [typ. Societatis Jesu], 1613).

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these conversions in Royal Hungary around the mid-seventeenth century.43 In the first half of the eighteenth century, these well-tested literary means were used, besides other tools, by the Catholic Church—in our case, the Jesuits—to target all levels of society, at a time when the predominantly Protestant Transylvania confronted them with the same challenges as Royal Hungary did a century earlier. By the end of the seventeenth and the first half of the eighteenth century, a different way of approaching conversion to Catholicism appeared in Hungarian-language literature. It did not dismiss polemics completely, but focused on the conversion of the soul rather than that of the mind, and on the role of piety and practical devotion in conversion and converting others.44 One important task for future research is to explore these works in order to attain a more detailed picture of early eighteenthcentury Hungarian-language conversion literature.

43

Heltai, MĦfajok és mĦvek, 127. For example, the works of Franciscus Fóris Otrokocsi, István Mike, and the abovementioned Joannes Berzeviczi. 44

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN THE REPENTANT REFORMIST: THE EVOLUTION OF ENEA SILVIO PICCOLOMINI’S VIEWS ON CONCILIARISM IN HIS LETTERS TOMISLAV MATIû

The Council of Basel (1431–1449), the last of the great medieval Catholic councils, was also the last serious attempt at reforming the Catholic Church from within in the Middle Ages. Even though it failed in its mission, it managed to produce a series of decrees which paved the way towards strengthening clerical discipline and reforming Catholic society,1 something that the Council of Trent would struggle to accomplish more than a century later. It also provided a significant precedent by helping to establish a “national church” because the acceptance of the council decrees by France practically resulted in severing this kingdom’s ties with Rome, a phenomenon that would be repeated, but on a much greater scale, by a certain English king almost a century later.2 And finally, the Council of Basel established theological and ecclesiological grounds for denying the papal supremacy, a process which would, in the following ages, tear Western 1

Götz-Rüdiger Tewes, “Kirchliche Ideale und nationale Realitäten. Zur Rezeption der Basler Konzilsdekrete in vergleichender europäischer Perspektive,” Vorträge und Forschungen 67 (2007): 343-344. Such “lesser” decrees—namely, decrees not referring to the struggle against monarchical papacy—were accepted and repeated at a number of local synods over the course of the fifteenth century. 2 Tewes, “Kirchliche Ideale,” 339 and 346-347. Here, I am of course referring to the Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges of 1438, which remained in effect almost constantly until 1516. See also Joachim W. Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, the Council of Basel and the Secular and Ecclesiastical Authorities in the Empire: The Conflict Over Supreme Authority and Power in the Church (Leiden: Brill, 1978), 64-71.

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Christianity asunder.3 In short, the Council of Basel (hereafter also referred to as the Council) sent ripples through time, which resounded thunderingly in the following centuries. Enea Silvio Piccolomini (1405–1464) participated on both sides of the struggle between the council and the papacy. Initially, he praised the council by gleefully claiming that it had the authority to overrule the pope.4 Later in life he helped to dismantle it by claiming the exact opposite.5 Interestingly, he can be seen using the same arguments irrespective of whether he criticized supporters of the papacy or the council fathers, which always depended on the political views he espoused at the moment. 6 Piccolomini was also an extremely skilled writer, and he used his writings to convey his political ideas. In this essay, I will concentrate on Piccolomini’s political as well as theological and ecclesiological opinions, which I will argue were all closely linked. As Montecalvo suggested,7 in several of his works Piccolomini supported the notion that only territorial power could guarantee political influence. It was an idea shared by Cardinal Louis Aleman (1390–1450), president of the Council of Basel, and also espoused by many of the other council fathers. Indeed, these men sought to strengthen the position of the 3

Thomas Prügl, “Modelle konziliarer Kontroverstheologie. Johannes von Ragusa und Johannes von Torquemada,” Vorträge und Forschungen 67 (2007): 266ff. On 16 March 1439, the Council proclaimed that the supreme authority of the general council was a principle of faith, and that denying it was a heresy; see Joachim W. Stieber, “Amédée VIII et le concile de Bâle,” in Amédée VIII–Felix V: Premier duc de Savoie et pape (1383–1451), Colloque international Ripaille-Lausanne, 23-26 octobre 1990, ed. Bernard Andenmatten and Agostino Paravicini Bagliani (Lausanne: Fondation Humbert II et Marie Jose de Savoie/Bibliotheque historique vaudoise, 1992), 346, note 29. After deposing Pope Eugene IV, the Council published the decree Sollicitudinem (2 July 1439), which proclaimed that Eugene had been deposed as a heretic for denying the supreme authority of the general council; see Stieber, “Amédée VIII,” 348. 4 Thomas M. Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas! Pius II on the errors of his youth,” in Pius II “el piú expeditivo pontifice”: Selected Studies on Aeneas Silvius Piccolomini (1405–1464), ed. Zweder von Martels and Arjo Vanderjagt (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2003), 194-195. 5 Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 201. 6 Luigi Totaro, “Gli scritti di Enea Silvio Piccolomini sul Concilio,” in Conciliarismo, stati nazionali, inizi dell'umanesimo; Atti del XXV Convegno storico internazionale, Todi, 9-12 ottobre 1988 (Spoleto: Centro italiano di studi sull'alto medioevo, 1990), 63 and 71; Emily O’Brien, “Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini and the Histories of the Council of Basel,” in The Church, the Councils and Reform: The Legacy of the Fifteenth Century, ed. Gerald Christianson, Thomas M. Izbicki, and Christopher M. Bellitto (Washington, D. C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2008), 67 and 75-76. 7 Rolando Montecalvo, “The new Landesgeschichte: Aeneas Silvius Piccolomini on Austria and Bohemia,” in Pius II „el piú expeditivo pontifice,“ 83-85.

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council not only by publishing masterly theological treatises, but also by electing the rich and powerful Duke Amadeo VIII of Savoy (1383–1451) as an antipope in 1439.8 This perspective makes Piccolomini’s change of heart much more understandable. We can see him as a man similar to his contemporaries, as one who was able to make a compromise between what was right and what was feasible. Piccolomini’s epistles are particularly interesting because he used them as a means of promoting his political agenda.9 Private letters were a very popular genre among Renaissance humanists; Petrarch (1304–1374) and Coluccio Salutati (1331–1406) were early pioneers of this form of exchange.10 However, despite their name, they were by no means meant to be private. During the Middle Ages, the epistle was considered a form of speech, delivered by an absent person. As such, epistles were usually read aloud and in front of an audience.11 That made them a good vehicle for publicly declaring one’s allegiance. In addition, humanist authors would often keep copies of their letters and later publish collections of them.12 Piccolomini was no stranger to this practice.13 The first letter I have chosen to chart the development of Piccolomini’s views on conciliarism is, as has been noted,14 probably the most con8

Stieber, “Amédée VIII,” 352-353. Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 70-71; Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 189, 197, and 201; Tewes, “Kirchliche Ideale,” 345; O’Brien, “Aeneas Sylvius,” 79. This tendency of Piccolomini’s is well known, and evidenced by his epistolarii. 10 Karl Enenkel, “In Search of Fame: Self-Representation in Neo-Latin Humanism,” in Medieval and Renaissance Humanism, ed. Stephen Gersh and Bert Roest (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2003), 96. Humanists would often collect ancient Roman letters, preferably Cicero’s, and try to imitate their style. Francesco Flora, Storia della letteratura italiana, vol. II: Il Quattrocento e il primo Cinquecento (Verona: Mondadori, 1967), 14-21. 11 Martin Camargo, Ars Dictaminis, Ars Dictandi (Turnhout: Brepols, 1991), 18-19; Martin Camargo, “Where’s the Brief?: The Ars Dictaminis and Reading/Writing Between the Lines,” Disputatio: An International Transdisciplinary Journal of the Late Middle Ages 1 (1996): 4-5. 12 Klára Pajorin, “La cultura di János Vitéz,” Camoenae Hungaricae 2 (2005): 13-14. 13 For example, Piccolomini sent a collection of his letters to Cardinal Zbigniew OleĞnicki in 1453. The cardinal sent him his thanks and a gift of marten furs, but he also sent him a rather angry comment regarding Piccolomini’s criticism of the late Polish king Wáadisáaw III. Rudolf Wolkan, ed., Fontes Rerum Austriacarum. 2. Abteilung: Diplomataria et acta, 68. Band . Der Briefwechsel des Eneas Silvius Piccolomini. III. Abteilung: Briefe als Bischof von Siena. 1. Band: Briefe von seiner Erhebung zum Bischof von Siena bis zum Ausgang des Regensburger Reichstages (23. September 1450–1. Juni 1454) (Vienna: Adolf Holzhausen, 1918), 245ff. 14 Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 192. 9

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ciliarist of all his letters. He sent it in April 1443 to Hartung von Kappel, the famous jurist and professor at the University of Vienna.15 At that time they were both employed at the court of King Frederick III of Germany (1415–1493, elected king in 1440), who had declared neutrality in the conflict between the Council of Basel and Pope Eugene IV (reigning 1431– 1447). 16 Piccolomini had by then already written several conciliarist pamphlets.17 This letter describes how Piccolomini and his friend Hartung were drawn into a discussion about ecclesiastical supremacy, and how, during the course of the dialogue, Piccolomini stated that whenever there was a conflict between the papacy and a general council, the council’s decision was final. This prompted Hartung to accuse Piccolomini of being a heretic, whereupon Piccolomini retorted that he had not said anything contrary either to Holy Scripture or canon law, and that Hartung should heed the Gospel rather than papal decrees. This had caused a divide between the two, and thus Piccolomini wrote this letter as a means to defuse the situation and to further explain his point of view.18 In his letter Piccolomini began by stating that the pope was in all respects subordinate to the general council.19 This was a bold statement, though not, it should be pointed out, a novel one; it had been a position 15

Hartung was elected dean of the Faculty of Law in the academic year 1433/34. Johannes Seidl et al., Publikationen des Instituts für Österreichische Geschichtsforschung, VI. Reihe: Quellen zur Geschichte der Universität Wien, 3. Abteilung: Die Matrikel der Wiener Rechtswissenschaftlichen Fakultät, I. Band: 1402-1442, Vienna: Böhlau Verlag/München: Oldenburg Verlag, 2011), 44. 16 The German princes and King Albert II had declared neutrality in 1438; see Stieber, “Amédée VIII,” 345. Frederick had adopted his cousin’s and predecessor’s policy in that aspect. Izbicki thought that this letter was an expression of frustration caused by the suppression of public discussion on matters of the schism on King Frederick’s court due to the official policy of neutrality (Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 193). 17 One of these was a history of the Council and the election of the antipope Felix V (Amadeo VIII of Savoy), usually called De gestis concilii Basiliensis commentariorum libri II, written in 1440; see Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 190; O’Brien “Aeneas Sylvius,” 64ff. Totaro thought that this pamphlet was never published because soon after it was written many of the protagonists whom Piccolomini criticized in it switched sides and acknowledged Felix V as pope; see Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 64. The other more important pamphlet was the so-called Libellus dialogorum de auctoritate Concilii, written in the form of a dialogue and published in 1441; see Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 64ff. 18 Rudolf Wolkan, ed., Fontes rerum Austriacarum. 2. Abteilung: Diplomataria et acta, 61. Band. Der Briefwechsel des Eneas Silvius Piccolomini. I. Abt.: Briefe aus der Laienzeit (1431-1445). I. Band: Privatbriefe (Vienna: Adolf Holzhausen, 1909), 133-134. 19 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 134.

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formulated at the Council of Basel as early as 1434.20 Piccolomini marshals a series of logical arguments—for example, that the pope is only one man whereas the council consists of many and is therefore more knowledgeable. He also offered historical examples where decisions were made by a majority vote of the council, and equated the universal church with the general council, adding that the pope can be regarded as the head not of the universal church as a whole, but only of the collective body of local churches—we might say, bishoprics—brought together. This was an important point for the conciliarist, as it meant that the pope was not the representative of the universal church, but one of its members—the chief member, but a member nonetheless. These were all arguments familiar to the Basel conciliarists.21 Another common territory was Piccolomini’s reference to the passage in the Gospel of Matthew (18:15-17), which he interprets in such a way that it seems that Christ established the church, rather than Peter and his successors, as the ultimate tribunal.22 These arguments were typical of the conciliarist position, and Piccolomini did not bring anything new to them.23 They certainly were not sufficient to change the opinion of a seasoned scholar like Hartung. Therefore, Piccolomini’s only motive for publishing this letter could have been to try to sway the opinion of the German public in favour of the Council and Pope Felix V.24 Piccolomini was at that time becoming increasingly aware that the council was fighting a losing battle, for it had little territorial power, and thus authority, and Felix V enjoyed almost no support outside of his own Savoyard lands.25 20

One of the most distinguished conciliarist theologians, John Stojkoviü of Dubrovnik (1395–1443), formulated this doctrine during the early stages of the Council, citing the Council of Constance as a precedent for such practice. He said that even though the decree Haec sancta, published by that council, declared that the pope is subject to the council in only three matters—questions of faith, schism, and reform— the pope, in effect, had to obey it in all things; see Prügl, “Modelle konziliarer Kontroverstheologie,” 266. Piccolomini was aware of these subtleties; see Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 137-138; Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 194-195. 21 Prügl, “Modelle konziliarer Kontroverstheologie,” 266 and 274. 22 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 136, cf. Prügl, “Modelle konziliarer Kontroverstheologie,” 276. 23 Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 69. 24 This was the purpose of several of his writings; see Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 64. 25 Elisa Mongiano, “Da Ripaille a Losanna: papa del concilio o duca di Savoia?” in Amédée VIII–Felix V, 365. After the election of Felix V, most of the Catholic monarchs either declared neutrality or oscillated between him and Eugene IV; see O’Brien, “Aeneas Sylvius,” 63. England, Castile, Burgundy, and King René of Provence (1409–1480) declared for Eugene, and the Swiss cantons sided with

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Piccolomini’s letter to Hartung von Kappel was the high point of his conciliarist allegiance. After that, we see increasingly desperate attempts in his letters to boost the standing of Pope Felix V. For example, in June 1443 he wrote disparagingly about Cardinal Cesarini and his mission to the king of Poland and Hungary, asserting that his attempts to launch a crusade against the Ottomans were doomed to failure, not only on account of the fact that the cardinal was a poor warrior, but also (and mainly) because his alleged mission was merely an attempt by Pope Eugene (whom he addresses by his given name, Gabriel) to keep the Kingdom of Hungary on his side.26 In that letter, Piccolomini still openly maintained that God was on the side of Pope Felix and the Council, but just a few months later, he began showing signs of desperation, for instance, in a letter to Cardinal Aleman (middle of October 1443) he wrote that the legate (Cardinal Alexander of Masovia, 1400–1444) the Council had sent to the German king was good for nothing, could barely stand, and was so feeble that Cardinal Cesarini could easily overwhelm him in an argument. Piccolomini also emphatically advised that the council should do everything it could to ingratiate itself to the king, even if it meant going against their principles.27 When the Council refused to follow his advice, Piccolomini pleaded with Aleman (around 23 November 1443) not to forsake the

Felix; see Mongiano, “Da Ripaille a Losanna,” 363, note 3. The latter had rather strong support in Poland (John Jefferson, The Holy Wars of King Wladislas and Sultan Murad: The Ottoman-Christian Conflict from 1438–1444 [Leiden: Brill, 2012], 267), with the highest Polish clergymen being adherents of the Council, such as the bishop of Kraków Zbigniew OleĞnicki (1389–1455) (Anatol Lewicki, ed., Monumenta medii aevi historica res gestas Poloniae illustrantia, vol. 12: Codex epistolaris saeculi decimi quinti, vol. 2 [Kraków: Nakáadem Akademii umiejĊtnoĞci Krakowskiej, 1891], 426-427 and 428-430) and the primate of Poland, Archbishop Vincent Kot (1395–1448) (Lewicki, Codex epistolaris 2, 404406 and 422). However, Cardinal Giuliano Cesarini’s mission to the Polish king (who at that time resided in Hungary) in 1442 managed to sway his and his court’s opinion towards Eugene by the time Piccolomini’s letter was written; see Jefferson, The Holy Wars, 277. 26 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 163. Piccolomini’s opinion that Eugene IV had been using the crusading idea to increase his own authority was, at least partly, correct. See Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 197-200. 27 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 203-204. He advised the cardinal to ensure that the Council would not confirm the bishop elected by the Chapter of Freising, because that would greatly infuriate the king, even though the Council insisted on returning the right to elect prelates to local ecclesial communities, which meant that refusing to confirm a rightfully elected prelate would be against its own principles; see Stieber, “Amédée VIII,” 358.

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king’s favour, because it was crucial for the future of the Council to get him on their side.28 By this time, it seems that Piccolomini had become convinced that theological reasons were not enough, and that the European monarchs would not side with the Council unless it ingratiated itself with them. Eugene IV had already proven that this tactic could be successful since Filippo Maria Visconti, the duke of Milan (1392–1447), and Alfonso V, the king of Aragon (1396–1458), promptly deserted the council and pledged their allegiance to Eugene after he offered them substantial political concessions in 1442 and 1443, respectively.29 In one of his epistles, written on 28 December 1443, Piccolomini stated that he was unaware of any clerics who were willing to sacrifice their lives for either Eugene or the Council, and that everyone would obey the side which had the support of secular rulers.30 The council fathers, even though they insisted on their high standards, shared this opinion, and it seems that both they and Pope Felix were painfully aware of their need for secular support.31 However, Piccolomini also believed that lay support could, and should, be obtained by political and/or financial concessions. It appears that by mid-1444 Piccolomini had realized that theological arguments had utterly failed to draw the secular rulers’ support to the Council’s cause. In his famous Epistle on Luck (Epistola de Fortuna or Somnium de Fortuna, written on 26 June 1444), in which he describes various people and their relation to the Goddess Fortune, he wrote that 28

Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 192 and 194. Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 62 and 195-196. Bribery worked equally well with ecclesiastical princes, judging by the example of the archbishop of Trier, Jakob von Sierck (1398–1456), who declared for Eugenius IV in 1441 after the latter had absolved him of paying his dues; see Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 220. Two years later he sold his support again, this time to Felix V; see Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 253-254. 30 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 255. He also writes that the secular rulers should convene to decide who would be the true pope, and sarcastically remarks that they are free to call their assembly whatever they like: “council,” “congregation,” or “synagogue.” 31 Even before accepting his election as pope, Duke Amadeo insisted that the Council should gain the support of the king of France, and he was very disappointed when that attempt failed; see Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 356-357. The council fathers also thought it wise to demonstrate to their adherents that they did enjoy some secular support, however uncertain it may have been: for example, the duke of Bretagne had sent a letter to the Council in 1443, which was promptly forwarded to the primate of Poland, as a demonstration of the Council’s authority; see Lewicki, Codex epistolaris 2, 438. 29

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Fortune looked kindly upon Pope Eugene, but not upon Pope Felix since no secular rulers sided with him.32 This view also seeped into Piccolomini’s other writings, such as his De viris illustribus, written after his conversion but before Felix V stepped down as pope. In it he accused Felix of stubbornly clinging to power despite having no support from secular princes.33 All this reveals much about Piccolomini’s, and probably also his contemporaries’, way of thinking. The council, and the values it stood for, had the support of a considerable proportion of the clergy, including ecclesiastical princes, such as the archbishop of Cologne Dietrich von Moers (1385–1463).34 The same position was taken by almost the entire ecclesiastical hierarchy in Poland, where both the archbishop of Gniezno and the bishop of Kraków were cardinals of Felix V,35 and also by most of the clergy in France, which strongly supported the issuing of the Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges.36 Nonetheless, at least from Piccolomini’s perspective, it was the lay princes who had the ability to uphold the authority of either Eugene IV or the council fathers. Since he thought that no cleric would risk his life by defying his ruler, he did not consider the support of the local church was worth very much, concluding that antagonism without secular support was meaningless. In this respect, the Council was fighting an uphill battle, since the papists exploited the Council’s opposition to the monarchical rule of the pope by declaring it a danger to monarchical rule in general.37

32

Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 351. Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini, De viris illustribus (Stuttgart: Societas Litteraria Stuttgardiensis, 1842), 33. 34 Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 222-223 and 249. 35 Vincent Kot and Zbigniew OleĞnicki, respectively. See August Sokoáowski, ed., “Codicis epistolaris saeculi decimi quinti pars prior (1384–1444),” in Monumenta medii aevi historica res gestas Poloniae illustrantia, vol. 2: Codex epistolaris saeculi decimi quinti, vol. 1, ed. August Sokoáowski and Józef Szujski, (Kraków: Nakáadem Akademii umiejĊtnoĞci Krakowskiej, 1876), 125 and 149. See also Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 201. The church in Poland remained firmly within the fold of the Council of Basel until the coronation of King Casimir IV in mid-1447; see Anatol Lewicki, ed., Monumenta medii aevi historica res gestas Poloniae illustrantia, vol. 14: Codex epistolaris saeculi decimi quinti, vol. 3 (Kraków: Nakáadem Akademii umiejĊtnoĞci Krakowskiej, 1894), 16-18. 36 Stieber argues that it was in fact King Charles VII who would not allow the French clergy to recognize the Council’s suspension of Eugene IV. Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 70-71. 37 Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 59; Stieber, “Amédée VIII,” 353. 33

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After mid-1444, no matter how hard Piccolomini had previously (and possibly still) believed that the theological precepts of conciliarism were correct, his support for the Council was in full retreat, possibly because he knew that continuing to support it could be detrimental to his career. Perhaps he did feel some bitterness or regret because of this, for in one of his later writings—one of his most pro-papalist writings—he cynically remarked that one had to be genuinely stupid to think that it was possible to influence kings with books and treatises.38 It seems likely that this was a self-referential comment and alluded to his previous outlook. In his Historia rerum Friderici III Imperatoris, written in the 1450s, a casual remark he made that theologians make everything more difficult seems to indicate that, by that time, theological subtleties had become quite unimportant to him.39 Subsequently, Piccolomini devoted the rest of his life to repudiating his own reputation as a conciliarist. In 1445 he stood before Pope Eugene to apologize profusely for his past transgressions and to swear that from then on he would defend the absolute rule of the papacy.40 Even though he later claimed that his change of heart came about on account of personal revelation,41 it is undeniable that his career immediately took a turn for the better. Although the Council had supported him in the early stages of his ecclesiastical career,42 it was Pope Eugene’s successor Nicholas V (reigning 1447–1455) who granted him the Bishopric of Trieste as a reward for his part in bringing the German nation into the Roman pope’s fold. The

38

Rudolf Wolkan, ed., Fontes rerum Austriacarum. 2. Abteilung: Diplomataria et acta, 67. Band. Der Briefwechsel des Eneas Silvius Piccolomini. II. Abteilung: Briefe als Priester und als Bischof von Triest (1447–1450) (Vienna: Adolf Holzhausen, 1912), 203: “Stultus, qui putat libellis et codicibus moveri reges.” The work in question is Piccolomini’s famous history of the Council of Basel, written in 1450, and commonly called De rebus Basiliae gestis commentarius. 39 Aeneas Sylvius Piccolomini, “Historia rerum Friderici III. imperatoris,” in Analecta monumentorum omnis aevi Vindobonensia, vol. 2, ed. Adam František Kollár (Vienna: Johann Thomas Trattner, 1762), 129-130: “Atque hi erant maxime theologi, qui omnia graviora faciunt.” 40 Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 47; O’Brien “Aeneas Sylvius,” 73. 41 Wolkan, Briefwechsel II, 58: “Pateat mihi ex divino munere celestis aule janua, quam procul dubio nullus ingreditur, qui beato Petro eterni regni clavigero suisque successoribus et eorum derogat auctoritati, nisi ante finem vite resipuerit condigneque satisfecerit.” See also Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 70; Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 201. 42 The Council had awarded him lucrative ecclesiastical benefices, though he was unable to fully claim all of them because of the animosity of local rulers felt towards the Council. See Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 49.

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consequences of this were that many of his former friends accused him of selling his soul for a bishop’s mitre.43 In order to refute such accusations, Piccolomini once again, and using his preferred medium of communication, dispatched an epistle (dated 13 August 1447) to Jordan Mallant, rector of the University of Cologne and a fervent conciliarist.44 In this letter Piccolomini completely went back on his former stance, claiming that the Council of Basel was no longer a legitimate council and stopped representing the universal church once it started acting without the pope’s approval.45 This example probably goes some way to explaining how he managed to completely switch his allegiance and yet preserve his faith. He continued to use the same arguments about supremacy, but applied them not to the council, but to the papacy.46 In turn, this enabled him to maintain that the universal church could never be wrong, because the one who was wrong—be it a general council or the pope—was not the universal church. If Piccolomini’s conversion was genuine, his letter to Jordan Mallant conveys an explanation of how he could continue being Catholic. Whether his conversion was genuine or not, Piccolomini used a good portion of his later writings to denigrate the council fathers and Pope Felix.47 Some of these seem as though they were intended specifically to counter his earlier works. For example, in his letter to Hartung von Kappel, referred to above, Piccolomini explicitly states that the bishops, just like the pope, are Christ’s vicars and the heads of their churches, a sentiment that was completely in line with the conciliarist doctrine, which he supported at that time.48 In contrast, in one of his later works he disre43

Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 199. Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel II, 54-65. 45 Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 201; Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 71. In his letter to Hartung von Kappel, he explicitly claimed that the general council was the same as the universal church; see Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 138-139. 46 He was not original in doing this. The papal faction had appropriated many of the theological arguments in favour of the supremacy of the council and applied them to the pope. Ultimately, the same arguments served as a basis for the doctrine of papal infallibility. See Prügl, “Modelle konziliarer Kontroverstheologie,” 284-285. 47 Eugenio Garin, Ritratti di umanisti (Florence: Biblioteca Sansoni, 1967), 18; Gioacchino Paparelli, Enea Silvio Piccolomini. L'Umanesimo sul soglio di Pietro (Ravenna: Longo, 1978), 220-221; Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 74; O’Brien “Aeneas Sylvius,” 75-78. See, for example, Piccolomini’s portrait of Felix V in his De viris illustribus, 30: “Cruces aureas in pectore, quod erat diaboli potius, quam Dei signum, deferri voluit.” In his De rebus Basiliae gestis commentarius, he describes Felix V as a greedy man covetous of the papacy; see Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel II, 199-201. 48 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 142-143; Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 196. 44

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garded the theological background of this concept and focused merely on its practical consequences, asserting that the Council’s doctrine was hypocritical, and that it sought to empower the bishops in order to impoverish the pope.49 He was also proud to declare that he carried a crucifix in front of Pope Nicholas V during the latter’s coronation procession, a gesture which represented a clear break from his previous contempt for the Roman papacy.50 The final letter I have selected encapsulates well the completion of the spiritual about-turn of Enea Silvio Piccolomini. It was sent to Cardinal Juan Carvajal (1400–1469) in 1451, and comprised a report of Piccolomini’s discussions with the Czech Taborites. It was written in the form of a dialogue, another form of which Piccolomini was fond.51 In it he preaches to the Taborites that Christ appointed Peter and his successors, the Roman popes, as the ultimate tribunal of the Christian faith, and that the pope, and only the pope, was the supreme ruler of the church.52 These were all claims which the old Piccolomini abhorred, and which he had firmly rejected in his earlier letter to Hartung von Kappel.53 They are also proof that, by that time, Piccolomini had, at least outwardly, accepted the teaching according to which, to put it simply, the pope has a power over the church that resembles monarchical power.54 The ultimate renunciation of his old self finds best expression in his reply to the Taborites. They claimed that they would obey the Roman pontiff provided he would not continue to defy Holy Scripture. To this Piccolomini forcefully replied that the pope was never wrong, and that no pope was ever a heretic.55 How could Piccolomini maintain this position if the Council which he once enthusiastically obeyed had declared Pope Eugene IV a heretic?56 The answer is simple: because he now believed that the Council of Basel was not a true general council and that it in no way 49

Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 73-74; O’Brien “Aeneas Sylvius,” 76-77. Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel II, 260. As mentioned before, as late as 1443 Piccolomini still did not think that the Roman pope, Eugene IV, was a real pope at all. He called him by his given name and surname (Gabriele Condulmer) and stated that he had no right to call himself pontiff. Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 163. 51 His Libellus dialogorum de auctoritate Concilii was also written in that form; see Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 64. 52 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel III, 38-40. 53 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel I: I. Band, 141. 54 This doctrine was also formulated in the early stages of the Council of Basel and it refers mainly to the scriptural passage Jn 21:15-17 (pasce oves meas). See Prügl, “Modelle konziliarer Kontroverstheologie,” 263-264. 55 Wolkan, Der Briefwechsel III, 40. 56 Totaro, “Gli scritti,” 53-54; Stieber, “Amédée VIII,” 348. 50

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represented the universal church.57 Thus the authority of the Catholic Church was preserved, the old doctrines were replaced by the new, and Piccolomini came out a bishop. The transformation of a repentant reformist was complete. We can conclude from all this that Piccolomini was extremely good at adapting to the current political climate. His decision to alter his political views furthered his ecclesiastical and political career in a meaningful way. In the end, this choice proved to be a wise one, as he was elected pope in 1458. This goes to show that his opinions, like those of many of his peers, changed with time, and that these changes were, at least partly, influenced by the political implications of supporting one doctrine or another. Piccolomini was a man of his era, and he was unwilling to stake his career and his soul on the teachings which were considered wrong by the majority of his contemporaries. His conversion shows us how the foremost men of his era managed to reconcile themselves to the status quo, which would come to a devastating end only half a century after Piccolomini’s death at the hands of a certain obscure Saxon Augustinian friar.

57

Izbicki, “Reject Aeneas!” 201. According to the papist teaching, a general council drew its authority directly from the supreme authority of the pope, not from the universal character of its membership. Only the pope could give legal power to the council’s decrees. Therefore, the legality of the council depended on the will of the pope; see Prügl, “Modelle konziliarer Kontroverstheologie,” 279-280. Eugene IV had been declaring the Council of Basel illegitimate repeatedly since 1438; see Stieber, Pope Eugenius IV, 43-44 and 192.

PART VIII: POLEMICAL THEOLOGY IN HYMNS, EMBLEMS, AND DRAMA

CHAPTER NINETEEN KIRCHENLIEDER ALS „VERBORGENE KONTROVERSTHEOLOGIE“? MARIE ŠKARPOVÁ

Autoren von Kirchenliedern der frühen Neuzeit wollten durch ihre Kirchenliedtexte nicht nur „delectare“, sondern auch über Gott und „göttliche Dinge“ „docere“. Sie wollten mittels ihrer Kirchenliedtexte eine Exegese von kanonischen religiösen Texten anbieten, die Glaubenslehre erklären, die Frömmigkeit stärken und kultivieren, die Beziehung mit Gott vermitteln usw. und wählten dazu spezifische Ausdrucksmittel: Sie bevorzugten sinnlich wahrnehmbare und sinnlich wirksame dichterische Bilder, Narrative und rhetorisch eindrucksvolle Sprachmittel anstatt der theologischen Terminologie, der abstrakten Konzepte und der Deutungsmethode; die Klangqualitäten des Wortes wurden (auch mittels Gesang) verstärkt usw.1 Wie Martin Opitz (1597–1639) in seinem Buch von der deutschen Poeterey (1624) formulierte, Dichtung sei „eine verborgene Theologie“.2 Dienten die Kirchenlieder in jener Zeit jedoch auch als eine „verborgene Kontroverstheologie“? In diesem Beitrag wird die Antwort mittels einer Analyse von tschechischen, in den böhmischen Ländern des 17. Jahrhunderts entstandenen Kirchenliedern gesucht. Die religiöse Situation sah in den böhmischen Ländern der frühen Neuzeit so aus, dass die Zeit von der Schaffung der utraquistischen Kirche bis zur Legalisierung des Katholizismus als der einzigen erlaubten Religion in Böhmen im Jahre 1627 (und in Mähren ein Jahr später) die Zeit einer Multikonfessionalität in den böhmischen Ländern war. Diese Multikonfessionalität war jedoch kein Ergebnis einer bewussten Religionstoleranz, sondern sie war eher ein Ergebnis der erzwungenen Koexis1

Vgl. Sven Grosse, Gott und das Leid in den Liedern Paul Gerhardts (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2001), 199. 2 Martin Opitz, Buch von der deutschen Poeterey, ed. Herbert Jaumann (Stuttgart: Reclam, 2011), 14.

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tenz von mehreren Konfessionen im Gebiet. Sowohl Nachweise einer konfessionellen Indifferenz und einer konfessionellen Zurückhaltung, als auch Ausdrücke einer starken konfessionellen Begeisterung stehen uns aus jener Zeit aus den böhmischen Ländern zur Verfügung. Man kann auch eine gewisse Dynamik in diesem Phänomen beobachten: Die zurückhaltenden, in vielen Aspekten überkonfessionell christlichen Einstellungen des böhmischen und mährischen Adels und der Intellektuellen der ersten Hälfte des 16. Jahrhunderts wurden allmählich durch eine deutliche, wenn auch nicht absolute Konfessionalisierung des öffentlichen Lebens um das Ende desselben Jahrhunderts ausgetauscht.3 Es ist auch in den Kirchenliedern evident: In jener Zeit wurden immer öfter Kirchenlieder geschaffen, die die Unterschiede in der Glaubenslehre der christlichen Kirchen thematisieren, und es entstanden Kirchenlieder und Gesangbücher, die an der Religionspolemik teilhatten. Als Beispiel kann ein katholisches Gesangbuch mit dem Titel Kancionál, to jest Sebrání spČvĤv pobožných (1601) von Jan Rozenplut von Švarcenbach (ca. 1550–1602) dienen.4 In der in sehr polemisch offensivem Ton geschriebenen Gesangbuchswidmung an den Olmützer Bischof Franz Kardinal von Dietrichstein (1570–1636) kritisierte der katholische Priester Rozenplut offen u. a. das Gesangbuch der böhmischen Brüder: Dieses sei kein „Kancionál“ (d.h. Gesangbuch), sondern ein „Kazionál“ (d.h. etwas, was verdorben ist und was verdirbt). Er berief sich dabei mehrmals ausdrücklich auf polemische Schriften gegen die Brüderunität des Jesuiten Václav Šturm (1533–1601),5 v. a. auf Šturms Polemik gegen das Gesangbuch der böhmischen Brüder.6 3 Vgl. JiĜí Mikulec et al., Církev a spoleþnost raného novovČku v ýechách a na MoravČ (Praha: Nakladatelství Historický ústav, 2013), 53-72. 4 Jan Rozenplut von Švarcenbach, Kancionál, to jest Sebrání spČvĤv pobožných (Olomouc: J. Handl, 1601). 5 Václav Šturm SJ gehörte zur ersten Generation der Jesuiten in Böhmen (die Jesuiten kamen im Jahre 1556 in die böhmischen Länder). Er studierte Theologie in Rom und wurde in die Gesellschaft Jesu von Ignatius von Loyola selbst aufgenommen. Seit seiner Heimkehr in die böhmischen Länder wirkte er vor allem in Prag, Olmütz und Krumau. Šturm war u.a. literarisch tätig, und alle seine Schriften können als kontroverstheologische Werke bezeichnet werden. Er gab insgesamt sechs polemische Schrifte in tschechischer Sprache in den Jahren 1582–1590 heraus, und alle seine Polemiken zielten gegen die Glaubenslehre der Brüderunität. Vgl. Václav Petrbok, “Václav Šturm,” in Lexikon þeské literatury 4/I, ed. Luboš Merhaut et al. (Praha: Academia, 2008), 795-797. 6 Die Brüderunität war eine Kirche, die aufgrund der Lehre von Petr Chelþický in der zweiten Hälfte des 15. Jahrhunderts, d.h. noch in der „vorlutherischen“ Zeit entstand. Es war für sie u.a. charakteristisch, dass sie die Liturgie in der Volksspra-

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Šturm widmete sogar zwei von seinen Polemiken—Rozsouzení a bedlivé uvážení velikého kancionálu od bratĜí valdenských (1588)7 und OdpovČd slušná a dĤvodná na velmi hánlivou a rouhavou obranu kancionálu bratrského (1590)8—gerade der Kritik des Gesangbuchs der Brüderunität. Er beschuldigte die böhmischen Brüder u. a., dass sie bei der Übernahme der alten, „rechtgläubigen“ Kirchenlieder in ihr Gesangbuch jedoch zugleich die Kirchenliedtexte hinsichtlich ihrer Glaubenslehre modifiziert hätten. Nach Šturm haben sie damit eine Irrlehre in die Kirchenliedtexte hineingebracht und die Kirchenliedtexte auf diese Weise ketzerisch gemacht. Rozenplut knüpfte direkt an Šturms Auslegungen an und warnte in der Widmung seines Kancionál u. a. vor den brüderlichen Kirchenliedern, in die die Irrlehre hineingebracht worden sei. Er konzentrierte sich zugleich auf die Verteidigung der Ursprünglichkeit der katholischen Glaubenslehre und damit der katholischen Hymnographie, und auf die Diskreditierung der reformatorischen Glaubenslehren sowie der reformatorischen Kirchenlieder. Die Hymnographie der nichtkatholischen Kirchen legte Rozenplut nicht nur als eine Ableitung von der ursprünglichen, d.h. katholischen Hymnographie aus, sondern er bezeichnete sie zugleich als einen Teil der ketzerischen Hymnographie, die seiner Meinung nach schon von Anfang der christlichen Geschichte an wirksam gewesen sei. Nach Rozenplut seien jedoch zugleich auch „rechtgläubige“ Hymnographen in der christlichen Geschichte wirksam gewesen, die die eine Irrlehre enthaltenden Kirchenliedtexte gereinigt haben. Rozenplut inszenierte seine Auslegung der Geschichte der christlichen Hymnographie in erheblichem Maße als einen geistigen Kampf zwischen gegenseitig antagonistischen Paaren von ketzerischen und rechtgläubigen (reinigenden) Hymnographen: Ketzer Paul von Samosata vs. Kirchendiener; Ketzer Bardisanus vs. Ephräm der Syrer; Arianer vs. Johannes Chrysostomos, bzw. allgemein „Erneuerer“ (novot-

che (d.h. auf Tschechisch oder Deutsch) zelebrierte, also musste sie auch liturgische Gesänge in der Volkssprache schaffen. Sie nutzte für den liturgischen Gesang vor allem volkssprachliche Kirchenlieder und sie schuf dazu ein Einheitsgesangbuch, das regelmäßig herausgegeben wurde (die erste bekannte Ausgabe stammt schon aus dem Jahr 1505). Vgl. Jan Malura, “Kancionál,” in Lexikon þeské literatury 4/II, ed. Luboš Merhaut et al. (Praha: Academia, 2008), 1900, 1903-1904. 7 Václav Šturm, Rozsouzení a bedlivé uvážení velikého kancionálu od bratĜí valdenských (Praha: B. Valda, 1588). 8 Václav Šturm, OdpovČd slušná a dĤvodná na velmi hánlivou a rouhavou obranu kancionálu bratrského (Litomyšl: A. G[raubenc], 1590).

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níci) vs. „fromme und gelehrte Leute“ (pobožní a uþení lidé).9 An den Schluß der chronologisch geordneten Reihe der Gegensatzpaare stellte Rozenplut das brüderische „Kazionál“ (siehe oben) seinem Kancionál entgegen. Die Brüderunität hat jedoch nach Rozenplut die ruhmreiche Tradition der tschechischen Kirchenlieder „geschändet“, indem sie bei der Übernahme von vielen alten Kirchenliedern den Sinn der Texte „verdreht“ habe, sodass sie dadurch ihre ketzerischen Neuerungen durchsetzen konnte. Rozenplut habe es sich deshalb zum Ziel gesetzt, die „ursprüngliche“ Fassung der verdorbenen Kirchenliedtexte wiederzugeben.10 Rozenplut hat jedoch neben den alten Kirchenliedern auch ganz neue Kirchenliedtexte in sein Gesangbuch eingereiht. Einige von ihnen kann man dabei als eine Fortsetzung von Šturms polemischen Schriften lesen.11 Dies wird vor allem im dritten Teil von Rozenpluts Gesangbuch deutlich, wo die Kirchenlieder die Unterschiede zwischen der katholischen Glaubenslehre und den Glaubenslehren der anderen christlichen Kirchen thematisieren und die Ketzer direkt mit protestantischen Kirchen identifiziert werden.12 Man kann nur die Titel von einigen Kirchenlieder erwähnen: O pravém výkladu Písem svatých (Über die rechte Deutung der Heiligen Schrift), Knihy kacíĜské mají páleny býti (Die ketzerischen Bücher sollten verbrannt werden), 9

Rozenpluts Auslegung steht im Einklang mit der zeitgenössischen katholischen Deutung, die die nichtkatholischen Kirchen als eine Wiederbelebung der alten, schon längst von den kirchlichen Vätern verurteilten Häresien interpretierte (vgl. Albert Kubišta, “Jesuitische Polemiken gegen die Brüderunität. Kontroverstheologie in den böhmischen Ländern um 1600,” Acta Comeniana 17 [2003]: 133). 10 Im Kancionál von J. Rozenplut kann man wirklich vor allem alte Kirchenlieder finden und nicht wenige von ihnen haben lateinische Vorlagen, es geht also in vielen Fällen um tschechische Übersetzungen oder Paraphrasen der spätmittelalterlichen lateinischen cantiones. In vielen von den von Rozenplut übernommenen Kirchenliedern kann man auch im Vergleich mit ihren früheren Einträgen deutliche Textveränderungen und Textbearbeitungen beobachten, sie betreffen jedoch nicht die dogmatische Seite, sondern eher dichterische Aspekte der Texte. Vgl. Marie Škarpová, “J. A. Comenius, F. Bridelius und Konzepte der böhmischen hymnologischen Tradition in der Mitte des 17. Jahrhunderts,” Musicologica Brunensia 47, Nr. 1 (2012): 62-64. 11 Šturms Polemik gegen die Brüderunität wurde sogar selbst zum Thema eines Kirchenlieds – vgl. Kirchenlied Každý kĜesĢan považ toho (Rozenplut ze Švarcenbachu, Kancionál, 566-570). 12 Vgl. auch Antonín Škarka, “Kapitoly z þeské hymnologie,” in PĤl tisíciletí þeského písemnictví, ed. Jan Lehár (Praha: Odeon, 1986), 238-242.

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VystĜíhati se kacíĜství (Man sollte Ketzerei vermeiden), O falešné církvi (Über die unwahre Kirche), Z kacíĜĤv všecko zlé pošlo (Von den Ketzern ist alles Böse hervorgegangen), KacíĜi suchá ratolest (Die Ketzer sind ein saftloser Zweig), KacíĜi jsou vlci (Die Ketzer sind Wölfe), KacíĜi horší než Turci (Die Ketzer sind schlimmer als die Türken), Posloupnost Ĝádná a neĜádná (Die ordentliche und nichtordentliche Nachfolge).13 Nach dem habsburgischen Sieg über die aufständischen böhmischen Stände im Jahre 1620 ereignete sich jedoch eine wesentliche Wende in der religiösen Situation in Böhmen und Mähren. Bisher gehörte der Großteil der Bevölkerung von Böhmen und Mähren anderen christlichen Konfessionen als der katholischen an, im Jahre 1627 bzw. 1628 wurde die katholische Religion als die einzige erlaubte, christliche Konfession gesetzlich festgelegt. Die nichtkatholischen Adeligen und Bürger konnten zwischen dem Religionsexil und der Konversion zur katholischen Kirche wählen, die Untertanen mussten jedoch zum Katholizismus konvertieren. Bis zum so genannten Toleranzpatent (1781), das zumindest teilweise Religionsfreiheit legitimierte, wurde eine monokonfessionell katholische Gesellschaft im Böhmen und Mähren gebildet. Die erzwungene Konversion des größten Teils der tschechischen Gesellschaft und die Bildung einer katholischen Identität in den böhmischen Ländern waren natürlich ein langer und komplizierter Prozess.14 Es wurden verschiedene Methoden und Mittel im Streben nach der Bildung einer homogen katholischen Gesellschaft benutzt. Das gepredigte, geschriebene, gedruckte und auch gesungene Wort spielte in diesem Prozess eine wesentliche Rolle. Die Tradition des Komponierens von Kirchenliedern in der Volkssprache und die Tradition des Schaffens und Herausgebens von Gesangbüchern setzten sich fort, die meisten bekannten Gesangbücher wurden jedoch nicht im Sinne von Rozenpluts Gesangbuch 13 14

Rozenplut von Švarcenbach, Kancionál, 553-600. Vgl. Mikulec et al., Církev a spoleþnost, 72-88.

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fortgesetzt. Die die Unterschiede in der Glaubenslehre der einzelnen christlichen Kirchen thematisierenden Kirchenlieder verschwanden in der zweiten Hälfte des 17. Jahrhunderts aus den tschechischen Gesangbüchern; die Kirchenlieder haben „allgemein“ christliche bzw. ausgeprägt katholische Themen (über die Heiligen, Eucharistie, Seelen im Fegefeuer u.ä.). Tschechische katholische Gesangbücher der zweiten Hälfte des 17. Jahrhunderts bzw. ihre Kirchenliedertexte sind nicht mehr offen polemisch—man konnte es sich leisten, über den Gegner zu schweigen, denn der Gegner war besiegt worden. Jedoch polemische Aspekte sind in ihnen trotzdem, wenn auch eher verborgen anwesend. Als ein Beispiel kann man ein tschechisches Gesangbuch mit dem Titel Jesliþky, staré nové písniþky (1658) des tschechischen Jesuiten Fridrich Bridelius (1619–1680) nennen.15 Das Gesangbuch enthält fast 50 Adventsund Weihnachtskirchenlieder und drei Katechismuslieder. Weder das Kirchenliedrepertoire von Jesliþky, noch seine Rahmentexte zielten gegen Ketzer oder Ketzerei.16 Der Gesangbuchstitel hat keine direkt konfessionelle Bestimmung (die konfessionelle Bestimmung war übrigens nicht mehr notwendig, da das Gesangbuch in einem Land herausgegeben wurde, in dem nur eine einzige christliche Konfession vom Gesetz her zugelassen war) und es wurde „Králi jeruzalémskému, Pánu na Sionu“ (dem König von Jerusalem, dem Herrn auf Zion), d.h. Christus selbst gewidmet. Die zusammengestellten Advents- und Weihnachtslieder haben überkonfessionelle, allgemein christliche Themen (Verkündigung und Geburt Christi) und die meisten von den „alten“, vor allem aus dem 15. oder 16. Jahrhundert stammenden Kirchenliedern sind als Erbe der meistens nichtkatholischen Vorfahren (siehe oben) sogar nichtkatholischen (brüderlichen, utraquistischen oder lutherischen) Ursprungs. Es ist jedoch interessant, wie das „problematische“ Erbe der früheren Generationen in Jesliþky behandelt wurde. Vor allem ist ein neuer Kontext wichtig, ein neues Ganzes, in das die alten, ursprünglich nichtkatholischen Kirchenlieder eingegliedert wurden. Es ist ebenfalls wichtig, wie das neu geschaffene Ganze genannt wurde. Der Gesangbuchstitel Jesliþky (d.h. auf Deutsch „Weihnachtskrippe“) weist auf die dreidimensionale visuelle Darstellung der Episoden von der Geburt Christi und seiner frühen Kindheit mittels in der Weihnachtszeit (bzw. schon seit der Adventszeit) installierten Figuren, Kulissen und Prospekten hin. Die ersten Weihnachtskrippen in den böhmischen Ländern wurden in den Kirchen eingerichtet, und 15

[Fridrich Bridelius], Jesliþky. Staré nové písniþky (Praha: Jezuitská tiskárna, 1658). Die Katechismuslieder präsentieren zwar die Grundkenntnisse der katholischen Glaubenslehre und damit die katholische Glaubenslehre als eine „wahre“ Lehre, jedoch ohne offene Angriffe gegen Andersgläubige. 16

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zwar vor allem auf Initiative der Jesuiten; die Geschichte der Weihnachtskrippen ist in den böhmischen Ländern eng mit der Geschichte des Jesuitenordens verbunden.17 Auch Krippenandachten wurden von den Jesuiten in der Weihnachtszeit veranstaltet, in denen das gesungene Wort eine große Rolle spielte. Das Gesangbuch Jesliþky war höchstwahrscheinlich für solche (jesuitischen) Krippenandachten bestimmt.18 Es wurde übrigens gerade im jesuitischen Kolleg bei St. Klemens in Prag herausgegeben, d.h. an dem Ort mit der längsten bekannten Tradition der Weihnachtskrippe und Krippenandacht in den böhmischen Ländern.19 Die Jesuiten benutzten Krippen als ein Hilfsmittel in ihrer pastoralen Tätigkeit, als ein Hilfsmittel bei ihrer Missionsarbeit. In den jesuitischen litterae annuae wurde die Funktion der Weihnachtskrippe wiederholt beschrieben. Die Weihnachtskrippe sei aufgestellt worden, um den Glauben des Volkes zu erwecken oder zu festigen.20 Die Weihnachtskrippe in der

17

Alfred Karasek und Josef Lanz, Krippenkunst in Böhmen und Mähren vom Frühbarock bis zur Gegenwart (Marburg: N. G. Elwert, 1992), 40. Die böhmischen Jesuiten waren sogar in gewissem Sinne Pioniere der Krippeneinrichtung: Die erste Weihnachtskrippe nördlich der Donau wurde angeblich am Anfang der 60er Jahre des 16. Jahrhunderts (im Jahr 1560 oder 1562) in der ersten böhmischen jesuitischen Kirche, in der St. Klemenskirche in Prag, installiert. Vgl. Vladimír Vaclík, Co nevíte o betlémech (Ústí nad Orlicí: Oftis, 2003), 12-13. 18 Mehr dazu Marie Škarpová, “Kancionál Jesliþky jako literární text a jeho podíl na utváĜení potridentské katolické zbožnosti,” in Fridrich Bridelius: Jesliþky. Staré nové písniþky, ed. Pavel Kosek, Tomáš Slavický und Marie Škarpová (Brno: Host – Masarykova univerzita, 2012), 184-186. Das Gesangbuch Jesliþky ist auch den katholischen Gesangbüchern aus Tyrol der ersten Hälfte des 17. Jahrhunderts sehr ähnlich, die ausdrücklich „ad cunas“ bestimmt wurden. Vgl. Johann Stadlmayr, Odae sacrae Iesu Christo servatori hominum nato et resurgenti cantatae (Oeniponti/Innsbruck: J. Gachius, 1638); Christoph Sätzl, Cantiones genethiacae ad Christi cunas (Oeniponti: M. Wagner, 1644). Das Wort „cunae“, bzw. „cunabula“, „incunabula“ usw. ist zugleich sehr oft auch in den jesuitischen Quellen zu finden, die meisten Einträge in den jesuitischen Archivquellen (vor allem in den litterae annuae) sind leider zu kurz bis unvollständig. Noch dazu wurden die Ausdrücke „cunae“, „cunabula“ und „praesepe“ promiscue verwendet, sodass es heute schwierig festzustellen ist, ob die Quellen über die Kindelwiegenandacht, über ein Weihnachtsspiel vor der Weihnachtswiege, eine Krippenandacht oder über die Errichtung einer Weihnachtskrippe berichten. Man hat den Eindruck, es handle sich um so bekannte Dinge, dass man darüber kein ausführliches Wort mehr zu verlieren brauche. Heute ist es aufgrund der bekannten Quellen nicht genauer festzulegen, was das Wort „cunae“ eigentlich bezeichnete – vgl. Karasek und Lanz, Krippenkunst, 7-8, 20, 26 und 118. 19 Vgl. Anm. Nr. 17. 20 Vgl. Karasek und Lanz, Krippenkunst, 18 und 22.

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Kirche sollte nach der Schrift des Jesuiten Philippe de Berlaymont (1576– 1637) aus dem Jahre 1619 diese Funktion haben: Das Ganze ist so geschickt arrangiert, dass das Frömmigkeitsgefühl der Beschauer aufs lebhafteste erregt wird. Sie glauben dem wunderbaren Ereignis selbst beizuwohnen, mit eigenen Ohren das Wimmern des Kindes und die himmlische Musik zu hören, mit eigenen Händen die Windeln zu betasten und ein heiliger Schauer erfasst sie.21

Die Weihnachtskrippe als bildhafte Darstellung des heiligen Ereignisses sollte also bei denen, die sie betrachten, Frömmigkeit erwecken und ihnen ermöglichen, den „heiligen Schauer“ über das Mysterium der Geburt Gottes in diese Welt zu erleben. Auch der tschechische katholische Priester JindĜich OndĜej Hoffman (ca. 1580–1646)22 erklärte im Jahre 1642 auf ähnliche Weise, warum die Weihnachtskrippe eingerichtet wurde: Die Weihnachtskrippe wird für das einfache Volk eingerichtet, das die äußere Weise und Zeremonie der Geburt nicht begreifen kann, um dadurch das, was geschehen ist, mit den einfachen Hirten sehen zu können. Ebenfalls die Hirten, die einfache Leute waren, wollten auch mit ihren eigenen Augen das sehen, was sie vom Engel gehört haben. Sie sagten: „Gehen wir und sehen wir das an.“ Und als sie es ansahen, priesen sie Gott beim Zurückkehren und sie erzählten davon (vgl. Lk 1). Ebenso der einfache Mensch: wenn er es in den Bildern sieht, erinnert er (vor allem die Jugend) sich lange daran, als ob er es lebendig sehen würde, und auf diese Weise wird er zur Innigkeit und Andacht angeregt.23

Und Hoffman fügte dazu noch eine kurze Polemik gegen Sektierer über die Notwendigkeit, die Weihnachtskrippe einzurichten, und über die 21

Zitiert nach Nina Gockerell, Krippen im Bayerischen Nationalmuseum (München: Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, 1993), 12. 22 Hoffman war ursprünglich ein utraquistischer Priester und konvertierte zum Katholizismus nach dem Jahre 1620. 23 JindĜich OndĜej Hoffman, Zrcadlo náboženství. To jest PĤvod, spĤsob, pĜíþina, smysl, výklad a užitek všech ceremonyí v Církvi katolické každoroþnČ i každodennČ obyþejných (Praha: Jezuitská tiskárna, 1642), 276: „Strojí se pro lid prostý (kterýžto zevnitĜní spĤsob a ceremonyí nemĤže toho Narození pochopiti), aby pĜi tom, co se dálo, s prostými pastýĜi mohli spatĜiti. RovnČ jako pastuškové jsouce prostí lidé, co od anjela slyšeli, chtČli také oþima spatĜiti Ĝkouce: ,Poćme a vizme.‘ A když to spatĜili, navracujíce se chválili Boha a o tom vypravovali (Lk 1). Tak prostý þlovČk, když to v obrazích spatĜí, dlouho na to (mládež obzvláštnČ) pamatuje, jako by to živé vidČl, a tudy se k vroucnosti a pobožnosti vzbuzuje.“ Die Übersetzung ins Deutsche ist meine eigene.

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Berechtigung dieser Praxis an. Er verteidigte die Rechtgläubigkeit der Gewohnheit, die Weihnachtskrippe aufzustellen, mit Hilfe des Hinweises auf die biblischen Hirten: Wenn die Sektierer sagen, dass es nicht angeordnet ist, antworte ihnen: Es wurde auch nichts den Hirten angeordnet, sondern sie forderten selbst einander auf: Gehen wir und sehen wir es an. Wenn sie wieder sagen: Aber wir glauben daran. Die Antwort: Die Hirten glaubten auch, trotzdem wollten sie auch mit ihren eigenen Augen sehen, um dadurch zu einer größeren Andacht angeregt zu werden.24

Die Weihnachtskrippe wurde also offensichtlich in der frühen Neuzeit als ausgeprägt katholisch aufgefasst.25 Der böhmische Jesuit Kaspar Dierig berichtete noch im Jahre 1680 über die ablehnende Haltung der „noch sehr protestantisch gesinnten Bevölkerung“ der Weihnachtskrippe gegenüber, mit der er während seiner missionarischen Tätigkeit in Nordostböhmen in Rokytnice nad Jizerou (Rochlitz) konfrontiert worden war. Die Knechte und Mägde hätten, in Mundart gesprochen, die Weihnachtskrippeneinrichtung in der Kirche verspottet: „Wier gedochta die Lemmer undt Schofe gehörta in Stall unndt nicht ei die Kirche“.26 Die Weihnachtskrippe wurde also nicht nur als ein Mittel der Andachtsveredelung oder Andachtsverstärkung betrachtet, sondern auch als ein Hilfsmittel zur „Bekehrung von Häretikern“. Jesuitische litterae annuae aus den böhmischen Ländern des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts erwähnen explizit, dass nicht nur Katholiken, sondern „die Ketzer“ in die Kirche kamen, um die Weihnachtskrippe anzuschauen.27 24 Hoffman, Zrcadlo náboženství, 276-277: „ěeknou-li sektáĜi, že to není poruþeno. OdpovČz jim: PastýĜĤm také nebylo nic uloženo, však se sami napomínali ,poćme a vizme‘. ěeknou opČt: My tomu vČĜíme. OdpovČd: PastýĜi také vČĜili, než chtČli také oþima vidČti, a tudy se k vČtší pobožnosti vzbuditi.“ Die Übersetzung ins Deutsche ist meine eigene. 25 In den protestantischen Gebieten (vor allem in Nord- und Westeuropa) betrachtete man die Weihnachtskrippe in der frühen Neuzeit als einen katholischen Brauch und es entstand dort in jener Zeit keine Traditon der Weihnachtskrippe – vgl. Eva Veþerková und VČra Frolcová, Evropské Vánoce v tradicích lidové kultury (Praha: Vyšehrad, 2010), 320. 26 Zitiert nach Karasek und Lanz, Krippenkunst, 120. 27 Z.B. im Bericht über die Weihnachtskrippenerrichtung im Hauptaltar der Prager jesuitischen Kirche aus dem Jahre 1563 steht u. a., dass die Weihnachtskrippe nicht nur „die Katholiken und gute Leute, sondern auch Hussiten anschauten“ (zitiert nach Karasek und Lanz, Krippenkunst, 20); es wurde ein Bericht über eine Weihnachtsmission des Olmützer Jesuiten in Lanškroun und Kladsko sowie über das Installieren einer Weihnachtskrippe in Kladsko aus dem Jahr 1584 bewahrt, wobei die Weihnachts-

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Der Titel Jesliþky für ein Gesangbuch von Advents- und Weihnachtskirchenliedern bestimmte also das Gesangbuch im Jahre 1658, als es herausgegeben wurde, ganz eindeutig konfessionell als ein katholisches Gesangbuch. Dieses Gesangbuch präsentiert sich jedoch zugleich nicht als eine visuelle Weihnachtskrippe, die für Nichtkatholiken im 17. Jahrhundert nur sehr schwierig zu akzeptieren war, sondern als eine „klingende“ Krippe. Das Gesangbuch Jesliþky ist keine visuelle Darstellung der Geburt Christi, sondern eine Sammlung des gesungenen Wortes, eine verbale Verkündigung über das Kommen Gottes auf die Erde. Erinnern wir daran, dass die Betonung des klingendes Gotteswortes und die Überzeugung von der Bedeutung des gesungenes Wortes als unersetzbares Glaubenzeichen und Hilfsmittel für die Erweckung des Glaubens im Menschen für die protestantischen Kirchen dominant ist.28 Der Gesangbuchstitel Jesliþky ist darüber hinaus ein biblisches Wort (vgl. Lk 2, 7.12.16). Er ist aber zugleich ein Bild, er weist auch auf die visuelle Erfahrung hin,29 er ist eine Allusion auf die zeitgenössisch beliebten visuellen Andachtshilfsmittel der katholischen Kirche: auf die Andacht des Kindelwiegens, auf die Weihnachtskrippe, auf die Futterkrippe als ein Requisit für die Weihnachtsoder Hirtenspiele. Jesliþky als ein Gesangbuch von Kirchenliedern in der Volkssprache, als ein allgemein verständliches, gesungenes Wort, das eines der selbstidentifizierenden Merkmale der reformierten Kirchen wurde, wurde also in diesem Fall zum Mithelfer dahingehend, den zum Katholizismus konverkrippe von „einer Menge von Lutheranern mit Anerkennung“ eingeschätzt wurde (zitiert nach Karasek und Lanz, Krippenkunst, 184); in den litterae annuae aus dem Collegium Clementinum in Prag aus dem Jahre 1672 wird besonders ein Edelsteinkissen unter dem Haupte des Kindes erwähnt, das zu sehen auch „viele Häretiker“ kamen (zitiert nach Karasek und Lanz, Krippenkunst, 25) usw. 28 Vgl. nur die bekannte Sentenz Luthers aus seinem Brief an Georg Spalatin aus dem Jahre 1523: „Das Wort Gottes bleibe auch durch den Gesang unter den Leuten.“ – Vgl. z.B. Hansjakob Becker et al., Geistliches Wunderhorn. Große deutsche Kirchenlieder (München: C. H. Beck, 2009), 125. 29 Siehe die zeitgenössischen, nach der Kontrolle der Vorstellungskraft des Christen strebenden Andachtsübungen, das Ausnutzen des Bildes im geistlichen Leben im posttridentinischen Katholizismus und die Bedeutung der Visualisierung und der Bildprinzipien in der katholischen Erbauungsliteratur der frühen Neuzeit (z.B. siehe die architektonische Metaphorik in der christlichen Erbauungsliteratur seit der Wende des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts). Vgl. z.B. Martin BedĜich, “Vizualizace v barokní literatuĜe,” ýeská literatura 57 (2009): 469-485; Tomáš Malý, “Christianizace obrazem: barokní ‚via purgativaǥ jako afektivní internalizace víry,” in Christianizace þeských zemí ve stĜedoevropské perspektivČ, ed. JiĜí Hanuš et al. (Brno: Matice moravská, 2011), 194-227.

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tierenden Tschechen die Akzeptanz der von der Reformation in Frage gestellten Gegebenheiten zu erleichtern. Konfrontative Aspekte der bisherigen katholischen Auslegungen zur tschechischen Hymnographie wurden darin beiseitegelassen; zur Existenz nichtkatholischer Konfessionen in den böhmischen Ländern vor 1620 und zur nichtkatholischen Hymnographie wird im Gesangbuch Jesliþky völlig geschwiegen. Gleichzeitig aber wurde mittels des Gesangbuchstitels auf die Notwendigkeit hingewiesen, das zusammengetragene Repertoire im Sinne der katholischen Glaubenslehre zu lesen. Dieses Beispiel zeigt die Bedeutung, die ein neuer hermeneutischer Rahmen für die Rezeption der Texte haben kann: die alten, von ihrem Ursprung her nichtkatholischen Kirchenlieder wurden in diesem Fall ohne Änderungen oder Bearbeitungen übernommen, sie wurden „nur“ in ein neues, implizit katholisch definiertes Ganzes eingegliedert. Der neue Kontext ermöglicht jedoch ihre neue, katholische Deutung.30 Neben den Textbearbeitungen bei der Übernahme von Kirchenliedern sind also auch die Änderungen von Textbedeutungen (d.h. die Umkodierungen) nicht weniger interessant, die ohne in die Textfassungen einzugreifen „nur“ durch das Schaffen eines neuen Kontextes entstehen.

30

Ganz ähnlich, wie wenn die alten, von ihrem Ursprung her nichtkatholischen Kirchenlieder bei den katholisch konzipierten Andachten (z.B. bei Krippenandachten) gesungen wurden, ermöglichte die Änderung des Deutungsrahmens ihre katholische Relecture.

CHAPTER TWENTY ZENTRALE PROTESTANTISCHE THEMEN IN JOSUA WEGELINS BUCH DER GEMAHLTE JESUS CHRISTUS (1630) MIROSLAV VARŠO

Ein Konvolut des Bischöflichen Archivs in Spišská Kapitula enthält ein Buch von Josua Wegelin aus dem Jahr 1630 mit dem Titel „Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus“.1 Das fordert gleich mehrere Fragen heraus: Wie kam dieses Beispiel profilierter protestantischer Literatur, wie in diesem Beitrag zu zeigen und wofür zu argumentieren sein wird, in die Zips? Und: Wieso wurde es in katholischen Kreisen jahrhundertelang aufbewahrt, trotz aller konfessioneller Wirren, der oft gerade literarische Werke der anderen Konfession zum Opfer fielen? Schon bald lassen sich erste Verbindungen zu Augsburg feststellen. Ein Exemplar des Buches findet sich auch im Bestand der Herzog August Bibliothek in Wolfenbüttel.2 Der Lebenslauf des Autors lässt erahnen, wie das Buch auf das Territorium der Habsburger gekommen ist. Josua Wegelin, bekannt auch unter den Namen Josua Wegelein, Iosau Weglein und Josua Weggelites, wurde am 11. Januar 1604 in Augsburg geboren. Sein Vater, Magister Johann Wegelin, war der Ephorus3 des evangelischen Collegiums. Die ersten theologischen Studien schloss Josua am 15. Februar 1626 in Tübingen mit dem Magistertitel ab, danach erhielt er das Amt des 1

Bischöfliches Archiv in Spišská Kapitula, Fond der Zipser Bistum, KSK 3272. Das Konvolut besteht aus drei Schriften. Der Buchrücken trägt die einzelnen Titel: „[1.] Wege[lin] Der gema[hl]te Jesu Chr., 2 Strenographia 3. Ali[...] Panegyricæ Orationes.“ Auf der ersten Seite unten steht geschrieben: „Sum M. Eliae Ku[o]gleri.“ 2 Signatur: A: 480.3 Theol 2o (2); online zugänglich in der Wolfenbüttler Digitalen Bibliothek, http://diglib.hab.de/drucke/480-3-theol-2f-2s/start.htm. 3 Der Ephorus war in der frühen Neuzeit der Leiter einer höheren pädagogischen Einrichtung.

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Pfarrers in Budweiler. Ein Jahr später, nach dem Tod seines Vaters, wurde er als vierter Diakon an die Barfüßerkirche zu Augsburg berufen. Im Jahr 1629 musste er aufgrund des Restitutionsediktes Augsburg zusammen mit dreizehn anderen evangelischen Geistlichen verlassen. Nach Gustav Adolfs Sieg über die Kaiserlichen kehrte er wieder in die Heimat zurück, diesmal als Archidiakon an der Barfüßerkirche. 1633 übernahm er die Predigerstelle am Spital zum Heiligen Geist. Zwei Jahre später (1635) musste er seine Vaterstadt wieder verlassen, da das Restitutionsedikt wieder in Kraft getreten war.4 Er kam nach Pressburg (Bratislava), wo er die Pfarrstelle übernahm und später auch Inspektor der evangelischen Kirchen und Schulen des Pressburger Comitates wurde. Sein Doktoratsstudium wurde jedoch durch seinen plötzlichen Tod unterbrochen: Er starb kurz vor seiner Ernennung zum Doktor der Theologie in Pressburg am 14. September 1640 im Alter von sechsunddreißig Jahren. Gerade in der Phase der Ausbildung der Konfessionen5 war Wegelin die ideale Person zur Profilierung der protestantischen Lehre. Er kam nach Pressburg mit Erbauungsliteratur. Sein Buch Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus war ein grundlegendes Werk, mit dem er als Immigrant direkt im Prozess der Konfessionsbildung der damaligen Zeit mitwirken konnte. Außerdem bot er auch andere Werke an.6 Als Prediger konnte er seine Gemeinde nicht nur durch seine umfassende Bildung, sondern auch durch seine persönlichen Erfahrungen stark beeinflussen. Wegelin war auch ein Kirchenliedkomponist. Sein Lied “Allein auf Christi Himmelfahrt” ist bis heute in den meisten evangelischen Gesangsbüchern zu finden. Auch bei der Heranbildung einer geistigen und geistlichen Elite in den Schulen konnte Wegelin als Schulinspektor des Pressburger Comitates entscheidend mitwirken. Sein Buch Der Gemahlte Iesvs Christus, In den Grund gelegt / Das ist: Deß Gesätzes unnd Evangelij Underscheid / als das Fundament vnnd der 4

Hermann Arthur Lier, “Wegelin, Josua,” in Allgemeine Deutsche Biographie 41 (1896), S. 783, http://www.deutsche-biographie.de/pnd124827721.html?anchor=adb. 5 Eine Auswahl der Merkmale der Konfessionsbildung ist dem Artikel von Gustav Reingrabner entnommen (Gustav Reingrabner, “Faktoren der Konfessionsbildung im Westungarischen Raum,” in Reformation und Gegenreformation im Pannonischen Raum. Referate der 13. Schlainiger Gespräche 1993 “Reformation und katholische Reaktion im österreichisch-ungarischen Grenzraum” und der 14. Schlaininger Gespräche 1994 “Gegenreformation und katholische Restauration,” ed. Gustav Reingaben und Gerald Schlag [Eisenstadt: Burgenländisches Landesmuseum, 1999], 12-14). 6 Zur Erbauung seiner Augsburger Gemeindeglieder verfasste er das Betbüchlein (1636), ein Jahr später Hand-, Land- und Stand-Büchlein.

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Lehrgrund deß hochtröstlichen Articuls von der gnädigen Rechtfertigung deß armen Sünders für Gott / Emblematicè und gemahlter weiß in zwölff vnderschiedlichen Figuren fürgetragen Welche genommen Zuvorderst auß der h. Bibel / auß den Schrifften der Gottseeligen alten Kirchenlehrer / B. Lutheri vnd anderer Evangelischen rheinen Theologen Büchern entstand in turbulenten Zeiten des Dreißigjährigen Krieges, in der er Augsburg wegen der Protestanten-Verfolgungen verlassen musste. Das Werk ist eine Art Bekenntnisschrift, die der junge Wegelin im Stil der zeitgenössischen emblematischen Literatur verfasste. Er hat es als erst 26-Jähriger dem Drucker und Buchbinder Christoph Krause7 zum Druck übergeben. Auf der Titelseite schreibt er, das Buch sei: Zur L. Lehr / W. Widerlegung / Z. Züchtigung / V. Vermahnung / T. Trost / und E. Erinnerung / bey einer jeden Figur kürtzlich und nutzlich angehenget.8 Der Ausgangspunkt des Werkes ist der Streit um Ablass und Gnade. In zwölf unterschiedlichen Figuren behandelt er die zentralen protestantischen Themen: Des Gesätzes und Evangelij Underscheid, wie es gleich im Titel des Buches steht. Am Unterschied zwischen dem Gesetz (Altes Testament) und dem Evangelium (Neues Testament) sollte die Rechtfertigungslehre dargestellt werden. Unverkennbar ist die Verbindung mit dem 4. Artikel9 der Confessio Augustana (1530, im Folgenden CA genannt), wie er im Vorwort zu dem Buch schreibt: “biß auff die beschehene abstellung deß Exercitij Augustanae Confessionis daselbsten / nach dem 7

Christoph Krause war von 1609 bis 1630 der Buchbinder in Kempten. Im Jahr 1609 begann er selbständig zu drucken. Kurz vor seiner Abreise nach Heilbronn (im Frühsommer 1630) entstand unter anderen noch das Buch Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, wie es aus der Titelseite des Buches hervorgeht: Getruckt in deß H. Reichs Statt Kampten / bey vnd in Verlegung Christoff Krause. Anno M. DC. XXX. (vgl. Christoph Reske, Die Buchdrucker des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts im deutschen Sprachgebiet: Auf der Grundlage des gleichnamigen Werkes von Josef Benzing [Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2007], 414). 8 Das digitalisierte Buch ist auf der folgenden Internetseite zu finden: http://diglib .hab.de/drucke/480-3-theol-2f-2s/start.htm?image=00003. Die Texte werden aus der Ausgabe des bischöflichen Archives Spišská Kapitula zitiert, die kleine Schreibunterschiede gegenüber der Augsburger Ausgabe aufweist. 9 “Weiter wird gelehrt, dass wir Vergebung der Sünden und Gerechtigkeit vor Gott nicht erlangen mögen durch unser Verdienst, Werk und Genugtun, sondern dass wir Vergebung der Sünden bekommen und vor Gott gerecht werden aus Gnaden um Christi willen durch den Glauben, so wir glauben, dass Christus für uns gelitten hat, und dass uns um seinetwillen die Sünde vergeben und Gerechtigkeit und ewiges Leben geschenkt wird. Denn diesen Glauben will Gott für Gerechtigkeit vor ihm halten und zurechnen, wie St. Paulus sagt Röm. 3 und 4.” (http://www.ekd .de/glauben/grundlagen/augsburger_bekenntnis.html)

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vermögen daß GOtt dargereichet erklärt” (Vorrede s. 3/510). Bei der Auslegung des 4. Artikels CA werden auch die anderen Themen der Confessio einbezogen (Art. 2. 3. 5. 9. 10. 11. 19. 20). Die Emblemata in Josua Wegelins Buch sind methodisch aus dem wörtlichen Verständnis (Literalsinn) von Gal 3,1 entstanden: “. . . daß uns Jesus Christus für Augen gemahlet sey” (Vorrede s. 4/6). Kirchenlehrer sind Zeugen der Rechtfertigung seit alten Zeiten. Gregor (der Große) in der Übersetzung Wegelins dazu (vgl. CCL140, 874): Was die Schrifft nutzet denen die da lesen könden / das thut das Gemäld bey denen / so es sehen / und doch nicht lesen könden: Weilen da auch die unwissenden sehen / wem sie nachfolgen sollen / unnd also an dem Gemäld lesen / die sonsten nicht lesen können. (Vorrede, S. 4/6)

Gleich nach dem Zitat des Kirchenvaters Gregor folgt ein Zitat Luthers aus seinem Kommentar zum Galaterbrief (Komment. ad Gal. p. 212): Dem albern Pöfel kan leichter etwas eingebildet werden / das er fassen und behalten kan / durch solche gleichnussen und Exempel, den durch hohe / subtile und scharpffe Disputation, hat besser lust daran / wen er ein fein gemald Bild sehen mag / denn wenn man ihme ein wolgeschriben Buch zeiget. (Vorrede, S. 4/6)

Historisch ist das emblematische Buch aus der Feder eines Augsburgers wohl verständlich, da gerade in Augsburg diese Gattung in der Buchdruckerei von Heinrich Steyner entstanden ist (1531). Der Emblematum Liber von Andrea Alciato gilt als Erstling der emblematischen Literatur. Josua Wegelin gibt den Emblemata eine gewichtige Bedeutung. Diese sind mehr als bloße Bilder. Der enge Zusammenhang mit dem Wort wird stark betont: Es wird neben den Gemälden die Hauptlehre je und allezeit kurtzlich versweiß gefasset und begriffen / damit hierdurch das Gemäld nicht allein umb etwas erkläret / sondern auch der Memori und Gedächtnus darmit gedienet werde / als welche gleichsam von natur zun Versen unnd Reimen ein sondere affektion unnd liebe trägt. (Vorrede, S. 4/6)

Kurz vor der Aufzählung der einzelnen Gemälde wird der Leser nochmals auf das richtige Verständnis der Emblemata aufmerksam gemacht: 10

Die Seitenzahl entspricht dem Zipser Exemplar, nach dem Schrägstrich folgt die Seitenzahl des Augsburger digitalen Buches. Der Unterschied enstand durch das fehlende Frontispiz in der Zipser Version.

Protestantische Themen in Wegelins Buch Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus 293 Es sein aber die Emblemata und Gemälde / nit nur auß einem dicto unnd Spruch eines Kirchenlehrers oder Lutheri genommen / sonderen wer alles lesen wirdt / der wird befinden / daß in einem solchen Emblemate der gantze innhalt der beygesetzten Wort / unnd der recht Hauptzweck darvon man handelt abgemahlet sey. (Vorrede, S. 5/7)

Bei allen 12 Abbildungen wird folgendes Procedere beibehalten: Der Überschrift folgt ein poetischer Vers auf Latein und Deutsch. Danach wird je ein Emblem gedruckt. Auf die Bilder folgen Textstellen aus dem Alten und Neuen Testament, den Schriften der Kirchenväter sowie von protestantischen Theologen. Die Texte der Kirchenväter sind parallel auf Latein und Deutsch zitiert. Die historische Form des Emblems wird erweitert und die klassische Reihenfolge: Überschrift–Bild–Poetischer Text (Lemma– Icon–Epigramm) wird auf: Überschrift–Poetischer Text–Bild–Prosatext geändert. Das Buch ist deutlich christozentrisch ausgerichtet, was für die frühe lutherische Verkündigung eine große Anziehungskraft gehabt hat.11 Die Widmung an die Gemeinde bestimmt den erzieherischen und erbaulichen Ton des Buches. Seine Bekenntnisinhalte sollten durch Unterweisung weitergegeben werden, wie es besonders in der zweiten Hälfte des Buches die Überschrift zum zweiten Teil ausdrücklich sagt: Evangelisches / Uhraltes Halß und Zeig = Uhrlin / Damit Des Gesetzes und Evangelii hochnothwendiger Underschied / nochmalen in zwölff Lehrpuncten unterschieden / Kirchenlehrer der Alten / gleich als in zwölff stunden gewisen wirdt (S. 49).12 Natürlich spiegeln die Formulierungen die Ergebnisse der theologischen Auseinandersetzungen und die Darlegungen der eigenen Konfession. Zwölf emblematische Zeichnungen in der ersten Hälfte des Buches sind den Hauptthemen protestantischer Theologie gewidmet, wie es aus den Überschriften zu den einzelnen Emblemata ablesbar wird. Nach dem Vorwort (Vorrede) kommen die 12 Kapitel: I. Von deß Gesätzes und Evangelij Underscheid. II. Von dem nahmen deß h. Evangelij / was er heisse und anzeige. III. Von dem h. Evangelio selbsten / seiner Natur und Eigenschaft / und wie dasselbe mit uns handele. IV. Wo das Evangelium zu suchen und zu finden?

11

Reingrabner, “Faktoren,” 3. Die Seitenzahl ab dieser Seite korrespondiert mit der Augsburger Ausgabe, da in der Zipser Ausgabe eine Abbildung vor die zweite Hälfte des Buches eingefügt wird. 12

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V. Von dem Gesatz / seiner Natur und eygenschaft / was es fordere und haben wolle. VI. Warum das Gesatz zu der Verheissung kommen / oder und Sündern sey gegeben worden. VII. Deß Gesetzes unterschiedlicher Nutz und Gebrauch. VIII. Deß Gesetzes und Evangelij unterschied. IX. Die nahe Gemeinschafft des Gesetzes und Evangelij in ʌȡȐȟİȚ, und in den Menschen herzten. X. Welcher massen das Evangelium von dem fluch deß Gesetzes befreye? XI. Welcher gestalt das Evangelium die Gewissen von dem Zwang deß Gesetzes loß mache? XII. Auff was weiß das Evangelium von dem Gehorsam deß Gesetzes befreye. Auf das letzte Kapitel folgt der zweite Teil des Buches, diesmal geht es um zwölf Lehrpunkte, die in zwölf Stunden gelehrt werden sollen. Die folgenden Bemerkungen konzentrieren sich auf vier ausgewählte Emblemata. Der Kommentar der emblematischen Einzelheiten wird auf die im Artikel behandelten Themen der polemischen Theologie im Zusammenhang mit der Bibel begrenzt.

Erstes Emblem: D. Bernhardi Gerichtsproceß Wegelin sagt zwar, dass er die Rechtfertigungslehre am Unterschied des Gesetzes vom Evangelium demonstrieren will, doch er fängt mit der Lehre von der Rechtfertigung als „unbeweglichem Grund” an. Das entspricht dem 4. Artikel CA—so betrachten wir billich den gantzen Artikel von der Rechtfertigung deß gefallenen Menschen summarischer weise im ersten Emblemata und Gemäld (S. 10/12). Wegelin inspiriert sich am Text des Kirchenlehrers Bernhard, genauer an seiner Predigt am Festtag der Verkündigung Mariä, der einem Gerichts Prozess ĮȞșȦʌȠʌĮș૵Ȣ13 auff Menschliche weise / so aber șİȠʌȡİʌ૵Ȣ Götlich zuverstehen / vorgelegt hat (S. 10/12).

13 Durch einen Druckfehler fehlt im griechischen Wort der Buchstabe ȡ, richtig: ĮȞșȡȦʌȠʌĮș૵Ȣ.

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Fig. 20-1 Josua Wegelins Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, Erstes Emblem. Mit Genehmigung des Bischöflichen Archivs Spišská Kapitula. Epigramm: Peccat homo, surgit Iudex, fremit orbis et orcus Iustitia et verum testis et actor adest. Gratia sed contra exorat cum Pace sequestrem Qui Deus ipse juvans consilio auxilio. Der Mensch in Sünden esset / Gottes Gericht geht an / Die höll vor Zorn brüllet / groß leid wir Menschen han / Das war Recht vertlage uns. hinwider frid und gnad Umb hülff bey Gott bitten / der hilffe mit rath und that.

Das emblematische Bild14 ist eine Kombination aus der Lehre von Gott und der Erbsünde (Artikel 1-4 der CA) und aus den in Bernhards (von Clairvaux) Predigt erwähnten Vorstellungen vom Jüngsten Gericht. Das Emblem ist horizontal in zwei zusammenhängende Ebenen geteilt. Im Himmel wird Gott in drei Personen dargestellt, was dem Bekenntnis von Nicäa-Konstantinopel aus dem Jahr 325/381 n. Chr. entsprechen soll (ein 14

Die Abbildungen der Embleme im Artikel stammen aus dem Bischöflichen Archiv Spišská Kapitula, Fond des Zipser Bistums, KSK 3272.

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einziges göttliches Wesen . . . drei Personen in demselben einen göttlichen Wesen. CA 1). Der Auferstandene sitzt zur Rechten Gottes als Richtender der Lebenden und der Toten. Aus seinem Mund gehen die Worte: Ich komm aus. Diese beziehen sich auf sein zweites Kommen als Richter, nachdem er bereits als Retter gekommen ist. Das wird in der unterhalb der Dreifaltigkeit platzierten Inschrift gesagt: Der Gerechte sterbe für den Ungerechten. Gleichzeitig wird die auf den Propheten Jesaja anspielende Aussage auf Christus bezogen, der für die Erbsünde15 und alle anderen Sünden gestorben ist (CA 3). Auf der unteren Ebene wird Adams Fall abgebildet. Es geht um eine Kombination von CA 2 und Bernhards Worten über den Ungehorsam, dargestellt durch die Verkostung des verbotenen Apfels. Adam und Eva beim Apfelbaum mit der Schlange entsprechen der Erzählung aus dem Buch Genesis (Gen 3). Die aus dem Grab steigende Frau und das Gerippe links unten reflektieren den reformatorischen Aspekt des Menschenbildes. Dieser hat nichts mehr mit dem dualistisch-griechischen Bild vom Menschen zu tun, das Körper und Seele unterschied, dabei alles Körperliche abwertete und im Spirituellen den einzigen Wert sah.16 Für Luther ist das Fleischliche die widergöttliche Haltung des Menschen, während der Geist dieses Widergöttliche im Menschen überwindet. Der Mensch ist ein ganzer (das holistische Verständnis ist wohl in den biblischen Texten verankert, die Leib und Seele als eine Einheit verstehen).17 Eine aus dem Grab links im Bild heraussteigende, betende Frauengestalt stellt einen Glaubenden dar, in dem Christus durch den Geist Wohnung nimmt (Anspielung auf Eph 2,22), sich in ihm inkarniert (s. das X. Emblem des Buches). Das menschliche Gerippe mit einem gegen die Trinität erhobenen Pfeil symbolisiert die gottferne Haltung eines Nicht-Glaubenden. 15

Luther spricht später lieber von „Hauptsünde“ (Schmalkaldische Artikel Teil III, 1), ein Terminus, dem die Lehre von der Sünde besser entspricht als dem Terminus „Erbsünde“. Auch weitere Termini sind von seinen Schriften bekannt: „Radikalsünde“ (Luther Weimarer Ausgabe 56, 277, 12; weiter nur WA) oder „das radikale Übel“ (WA 56, 277, 23). 16 Die Veränderung des Menschenbildes bei Luther klingt in seinem Proömium zur Psalmenauslegung an: „Zugleich muss dasselbe (der Wortlaut der Psalmen) tropologisch verstanden werden von einem geistlichen und inneren Menschen“ (WA 3,13, 16f). „Die Tropologie ist gegen die Tyrannei, die Versuchung und den Angriff des fleischlichen und äußeren Menschen, der den Geist reizt und bedrängt, die Wohnung Christi“ (WA 3, 13, 27f; zitiert aus: Henning Graf Reventlow, Epochen der Bibelauslegung. Band III. Renaissance, Reformation, Humanismus [München: C. H. Beck, 1997], 74). 17 Reventlow, Epochen, 74.

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Die zwei Ebenen des Bildes hängen eng zusammen, wie die aus der himmlischen Sphäre nach unten hängenden Zitate andeuten. Sie zeichnen eine Bewegung nach, die Wegelin als eine Lehre des Evangeliums so formuliert: Von Gottes strenger Gerechtigkeit / zu seiner grundlosen Barmhertzigkeit (S. 10/12). Die Zitate zeigen die Nähe der beiden Testamente zueinander. Dem Engel auf der rechten Seite Christi entspringen zwei Sprüche aus dem Mund. Beide beziehen sich auf die Gerechtigkeitsvorstellung des Alten Testaments: Herr dein Wort muss erfüllet werden der mensch soll sterben spricht der Engel mit dem Totenschädel in der rechten Hand. Der Engel mit dem auf dem Schwert hängenden Wagen spricht: Das Recht mueß ergeben und sollt die welt untergehen. Die zwei Engel an der Seite Gott-Vaters mit dem Symbol einer siegenden Palme und eines brennenden Herzens sagen: Der gegeben denn acht der hälffe auch mit der that und Der mensch bedarff der Barmherzigkeit dann er ist sehr elend. Die Sprüche sind grundlegend für Wegelins Formulierung der Rechtfertigungslehre in seinem Buch. Das Bild samt den Aussagen der Engel behandelt die Themen des Hauptartikels des zweiten Teils der Schmalkaldischen Artikel. Im Unterschied zur Confessio Augustana, deren Ziel es war zu demonstrieren, dass Luther und seine Nachfolger der katholischen Kirche angehören, prangern die Schmalkadischen Artikel die Unterschiede zwischen katholischer Theologie und Praxis an.18 In diesem Fall richtet sich die Betonung der sola gratia gegen die Hochschätzung der guten Werke und Verdienste, die in der Katholischen Kirche gelehrt und praktiziert wurde.

Drittes Emblem: Von dem h. Evangelio selbsten / seiner Natur und Eigenschafft / und wie dasselbe mit uns handele Nach der zweiten Abbildung, wo das Evangelium als Frohe Botschaft beschrieben ist (als Gegensatz zu Schrecken, Marter, Straff und Todt), werden Natur, Art und Eigenschaften des Evangeliums dargestellt. Das Evangelium wird einem vierfachen Fluss verglichen. Das Bild stellt Gott-Vater dar. Diejenigen, die sein Wort hören, zieht er zu sich und schenkt ihnen seine Gnaden. Es werden vier Wege, genau vier evangelische artes abgebildet: Predigt (fides ex auditu Röm 10,17), Taufe, Absolution und Abendmahl. Die Anziehungskraft Gott-Vaters wird mit dem Worten aus dem Johannesevangelium (Joh 6,44) bestimmt: Es kann niemand zu mir kommen, es sei denn das ihn Ziehe der Vater. Die Lehre 18

William R. Russel, “The Theological ‘Magna Charta’ of Confessional Lutheranism,” Church History 64 (1995): 394.

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entspricht den Artikeln 5, 9, 10,11 CA und noch genauer dem Schmalkaldischen Artikel Teil III, 4-7, besonders Teil 4.19

Fig. 20-2 Josua Wegelins Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, Drittes Emblem. Mit Genehmigung des Bischöflichen Archivs Spišská Kapitula. Epigramm: Nomine grata ferens, eademque annunciat ore, Deus, confert, signat, clave, liquore, cibo. Quisquis es ergo hominum cape res et verba salutis, Vox Evangelij est, accipe, sume, cape. Was der Nahm zeigt und heisset / die Predig lehre thuet / Theiles auß / scheckts / versegelts / durchs Wort / Wasser und Blut, Darumben lieber Christ / werd auff die frölich Stimm / Wanns Evangelium sagt / Ergreiff / nimb / hinnimb. 19 „Wir wollen nun wider zum Evangelio kommen, welches gibt nicht einrelei Weise Rat und Hilfe wider die Sünde; denn Gott ist überschwenglich reich in seiner Gnade: erstlich durchs mündliche Wort, darin gepredigt wird Vergebung der Sünden in aller Welt, welches ist das eigentliche Amt des Evangelii; zum andern durch die Taufe; zum dritten durchs heilige Sakrament des Altars; zum vierten durch die Kraft der Schlüssel und auch per muttuum colloquium et consolationem fratrum, Math. 18: Ubi duo fuerint congregatt etc.“ (SA III, 4).

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In Wegelins Kommentar zu diesem Emblem wird die gebende und schenkende Natur des Evangeliums abermals betont. Möglicherweise steht im Hintergrund die wichtige Frage der Auslegung der Schrift. Das hängt mit dem im Text drei Mal wiederholten vierfachen Fluss oder Weg des Evangeliums zusammen (vgl. dicto: est, accipe, sume, cape). Somit sollte die Wahrheit der Bibel vorab sichergestellt werden. Die christliche Exegese hat eine Lehre vom vierfachen Sinn der Hl. Schrift entwickelt (quatuor sensus scripturae). Schon Johannes Cassianus (um 420) erläutert am Beispiel der Stadt Jerusalem die vier Schriftsinne (Collationes 14,8,4, CSEL 13,405). Ein bekanntes Distichon des Mittelalters fasst die Bedeutung dieser Auslegungsmethode zusammen: Littera gesta docet, quid credas allegoria, moralis quid agas, quo tendas anagogia (Der Buchstabe lehrt die Ereignisse; was du zu glauben hast, die Allegorie; die Moral, was du zu tun hast; wohin du streben sollst, die Anagogie).20 Den vierfachen Schriftsinn sah man in den vier Flüssen des Paradieses (Gen 2,10-14) und in den vier auf die Evangelien verweisenden Lebewesen in der Vision des Propheten Ezechiel angedeutet (Ez 1).21 Luther war in seinen Auslegungsmethoden deutlich von der mittelalterlichen Auslegungstradition abhängig. In der ersten Psalmenvorlesung hatte er die Theorie vom vierfachen Schriftsinn noch angewendet. Später unterscheidet er einen doppelten Wortsinn: Einen historischen und einen prophetischen,22 wobei der prophetische sich stets auf Christus bezieht: “Jede Prophetie und jeder Prophet muß von dem Herrn Christus verstanden werden, außer wo in klaren Worten deutlich wird, daß er von einem anderen spricht” (WA 3,13,6f). Dies bedeutet gegenüber dem System des vierfachen Schriftsinns eine wichtige Revision, was ihn allmählich zur Aufgabe dieser Methode geführt hat. Er äußert sich zur allegorischen Schriftauslegung in einer Tischrede von 1540 folgendermaßen: “Als ich jung war, da war ich gelehrt und insbesondere, ehe ich zur Theologie kam, da ging ich mit Allegorien, Tropologien, Analogien um und machte lauter Kunst . . . ich weiß, dass es lauter Dreck ist, den ich nun hab’ fahren lassen . . . Der Literalsinn, der tut’s, da ist Leben, Trost, Kraft, lehre und Kunst drin. Das andere ist Narrenwerk, auch wenn es hoch glänzt” (Tischreden WA 5, 45, 10-17). 20 Nach Henri de Lubac ist die früheste Quelle des alten Merkverses der Traktat Rotulus Pugillaris des Augustinus von Dazien (um 1260). 21 Ludger Schwienhorst-Schönberger, “‘Damit die Bibel nicht ein Wort der Vergangenheit bleibt.’ Historische Kritik und geistige Schriftauslegung,” in Gottes Wort in Menschenwort. Die eine Bibel als Fundament der Theologie, ed. Karl Lehmann und Ralf Rothenbusch (Freiburg, Herder Verlag GmbH, 2014), 182. 22 Reventlow, Epochen, 73.

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Die vier Säulen des Zuflusses der Göttlichen Worte könnten das traditionelle Verständnis der Hl. Schrift andeuten und gleich ersetzen. Der direkte Weg von Gottes Mund durch vier unterschiedliche Flüsse zu den Ohren der Hörenden kann den literarischen Sinn des Wortes betonen. Die wörtliche Auslegung (sensus literalis) darf dabei nicht mit einer buchstäblichen Auslegung verwechselt werden.

Achtes Emblem: Des Gesetzes und Evangelij unterschied Die achte Abbildung kommt nach vorbereitenden Erklärungen über die Natur des Gesetzes und des Evangeliums zum Kern des Buches, zur Beschreibung des Unterschiedes zwischen Altem Bund (Gesetz) und Neuem Bund (Evangelium). Das Bild ist antithetisch strukturiert. Die linke Hälfte ist dem Gesetz (dem Alten Bund) gewidmet, darunter ich steck und verlohren bin, die rechte Hälfte dem Evangelium, welches uns Gottes genade / vergebung der Sünden / ewige Gerechtigkeit und Leben schencket. Die linke Seite ist im Schatten der Nacht eingetaucht, wie die Sterne und der Mond symbolisch darstellen. Das Totengerippe, mit den Tafeln des Gesetzes und mit der Lanze in den Händen stellt die fordernde Natur des Alten Bundes dar. Wenn dem Menschen alles weggenommen wird, wird er zu einem Totengerippe, oder anders gesagt: der Mensch ist unfähig, die Vorschriften des Gesetzes zu erfüllen. Die vom Himmel ausgestreckte rechte Hand (GottVater), die die Waage hält, trägt die Inschrift gib her. Die zentrale Gestalt auf der rechten Seite ist ein Junge, der mit Gott Vaters rechter Hand einen Mantel übergibt. Die Inschrift nimm hin ist Wegelins Bezeichnung einer Eigenschaft des Evangeliums—des (Ver-)Gebens. Der Mantel wird von Gott-Vater und gleichsam von Gott-Sohn samt einer Siegespalme angeboten. Dass der Junge Jesus ist, wird auch vom unten abgebildeten Baumstumpf aus Jesajas Prophetie bestimmt: Doch aus dem Baumstumpf Isais wächst ein Reis hervor, ein junger Trieb aus senin Wurzeln bringt Frucht (Jes 11,1). Die Füße des Jungen stehen im Schatten des Alten Bundes.

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Fig. 20-3 Josua Wegelins Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, Achtes Emblem. Mit Genehmigung des Bischöflichen Archivs Spišská Kapitula. Epigramm: Vita velut mortis, nex lucis ignis aquae, sic Lex Evangelij nescit amicitiam. Inter se distant, quantum terra infima caelo Distat ab astrifero, Hoc porrigit, illa petis. Fewr und Wasser sich scheiden / die Nacht fliehet den Tag / himmel und Erd sich theilen / dem leben saget ab Der unbarmhertzig Todt. Also und gleicher gstalt / Die beyde Lehren auch sich theilen manigfalt.

Der obere Teil des antithetischen Bildes wirkt doch sehr einheitlich. Derselbe Himmel, sich ergänzende Himmelskörper (Mond, Sterne und Sonne), die rechte Hand von Gott-Vater mit zwar unterschiedlichen, trotzdem sich gegenseitig ergänzenden Gaben. Moses linke Hand trägt die Lanze, ein Symbol des Kampfes, der Mühe, Christi offene linke Hand zeigt das Gegenteil—den Frieden. Die zweideutige Einheit des Emblems zeigt auf die absichtige Ausformulierung des Unterschiedes zwischen den zwei zusamenhängenden Testamenten.

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Die antithetische Abbildung des Neuen Testaments gegenüber dem Alten könnte die zeitgenössische Kritik an der Rezeption des Alten Bundes in der katholischen Kirche darstellen. Um das zu zeigen, wird ein auf den ersten Blick nicht damit in Zusammenhang stehendes Bild—ein Fresko— mit dem Buch verglichen. Es geht um den bekannten Baum des Lebens aus der Pfarrkirche Žehra (Ostslowakei) aus dem 14. Jahrhundert. Diese befindet sich in der Nähe von Spišská Kapitula (Zipser Kapitel), in deren Archiv Wegelins Buch jahrelang aufgehoben war. Zu bemerken ist, dass die Kirche in den Jahren 1653–1632 im Besitz der Protestanten war.23 Die Fresken sind beibehalten worden und das trotz der unterschiedlichen theologischen Akzente der evangelischen Gemeinde, wie auch Wegelins Buch aus derselben Periode erkennen lässt. Das Fresko von Žehra ist, ähnlich wie Wegelins Emblem, eine antithetische Darstellung der zwei Bünde. In der Mitte ist der gekreuzigte Christus. Das Kreuz stellt den Baum des Lebens, gleichzeitig auch den Baum des Todes und den Baum der Erkenntnis dar. Beide Seiten sind durch das Kreuz polarisiert. Die symbolische Axis des Kreuzes teilt die Komposition. Die linke abwertende Seite mit abgewendetem Blick des Gekreuzigten symbolisiert die Welt der Nacht, wo der Tod und die Sünde wohnen. Das in bekannten Bildern dargestellte Alte Testament wird mit Adam und Eva unter dem Baum der Erkenntnis repräsentiert. Sie nehmen gerade den Apfel von der Schlange. Das Totenreich wird mit einer verlängerten Hand aus dem Kreuz geschlagen. Oben befindet sich eine alte Frau—die Synagoge—sitzend auf einem Esel mit gebrochenen Füßen und durchschnittener Kehle. Eine himmlische Hand schlägt eine Todeswunde mit dem Schwert, das direkt in den Kopf der geblendeten Synagoge ragt. Eine zerbrochene Lanze trägt eine schwarze Fahne.24 Auf der rechten Seite mit dem zugewandten Kopf Christi stellt eine junge Frauenfigur die Triumphierende Kirche, das Neues Testament dar. Die junge Frau reitet auf einem Tetramorph, ein Tier, das von den vier Symbolen der Evangelisten (ursprünglich aus Ez 1) gestaltet wird: Mann, Löwe, Stier und Adler. Die rechte Hand der Frau hält triumphierend die farbige Fahne hoch, die linke einen Kelch mit der Eucharistie. Diagonal wird auch das Gegenteil der Unterwelt dargestellt, das Paradies, eben mit einer himmlischen Hand, die die Tür zum Paradies offen hält. So wird das Motiv der Erlösung dargestellt, das in Grundzügen mit der Rechtfertigung verglichen werden darf. Wichtig ist hier die Frage nach der Stellung des Alten und des Neuen Testaments zueinander. Betont ist dabei 23

Milan Togner und Vladimír Plekanec, Medieval Wall Paintings in Spiš (Bratislava: Arte libris, 2012), 229. 24 Togner, Medieval Wall Paintings, 230-231.

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die einzige Gültigkeit des Neuen Testaments gegenüber dem nicht mehr geltenden Alten Bund. Diese Botschaft ist im Grunde antibiblisch. Was das Verhältnis der beiden Testamente angeht, ist die Lehre Luthers klar. Für Luther stellen die beiden Testamente eine Einheit dar. In seiner Vorrede auf das Alte Testament sagt er: So wisse nun, daß dies Buch ein Gesetzbuch ist, das das lehret, was man tun und lassen soll, und daneben anzeigt Beispiele und Geschichten, wie solche Gesetze gehalten und übertreten worden sind. Gleich wie das Neue Testament ein Evangelium oder Gnadenbuch ist und lehret, woher mans nehnem soll, daß das Gesetz erfüllt werde. (Deutsche Bibel, WA 8)

Wegelin ist dieser Lehre treu. Schon das nächste Emblem trägt den Titel: “Die nahe Gemeinschafft deß Gesetzes und Evangelij in ʌȡȐȟİȚ, und in deß Menschen herztzen. Er bringt ein Zitat aus Luthers Kommentar zu Gal 3: Wie sehen wir abermal wie das Gesatz unnd Evangelium / so sonst ihrer Werd unnd Art halben / so weit voneinander gescheiden / ja so stracks wider einander sind unnd streiten / als fewr unnd Wasser / Todt unnd Leben / doch gleichwol so nahe beysammen sind / daß sie nicht näher sien köndten. Solches zeiget Paulus hie an / da er sagt: Wir wurden under dem Gesätz verschlossen und verwahret auss den Glauben der da kommen solle. (S. 31/33)

Der Vergleich von Wegelins Abbildung und dem Fresko zeigt einen weiteren Unterschied. Wegelins Bild hält sich strikt an die Schrift. Alle Symbole sind ausschließlich aus dem kommentierten Schrifttext entnommen. Außerdem werden die zusammenhängenden schriftlichen Texte abgebildet, wenn auch nicht kommentiert, wie z.B. Jesajas Baumstumpf.

Zehntes Emblem: Welcher massen das Evangelium von dem Fluch deß Gesetzes befreye? Das zehnte Emblem ist der Wirkung des Gesetzes und des Evangeliums gewidmet. Die Wirkung der beiden Testamente ist eng miteinander verbunden, eines ohne das andere bleibt wirkungslos, wie es in der Vorrede zum vierten Emblem formuliert ist:

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Nemblich nicht allein in den Büchern Neues Testaments / da ist nicht alles Evangelium / gleich wie in den Büchern altes Testaments nicht alles Gesetz ist. Sonder in der gantzen h. Schrifft asl Göttlichen Lehre / wo daselbesten von der gnädigen vergebung der Sünden durch Christum geprediget wirdt / da lässet sich das Evangelium hören. (S. 16/18)

Fig. 20-4 Josua Wegelins Der Gemahlte Jesus Christus, Zehntes Emblem. Mit Genehmigung des Bischöflichen Archivs Spišská Kapitula. Epigramm: Aspice, mors mortis morti vita est, homo legi Per legem moritur, vivat ut inde DEO. Mortuus ignivomo Mosi, sub tegmine Christi Vivit, sic vita est, gratia, et interitus. Der Todt das leben ist / wann du GOtt leben wilt / Dem Gsatz must sterben ab / dann Christus allein gilt / Und wann Er lebt in uns. Ein vunderseltzam ding / Doch sehr bedenctlich ist / wie es leben der Todt bring.

Es werden die biblischen Fundamente der Theologie der Rechtfertigung summiert (CA Art. 4), wobei die Gerechtigkeit des Menschen nach dem Gesetz und Evangelium abgefragt wird. In den Schmalkadischen Artikeln im IV, 3, 2 wird das Amt des Gesetzes mit Zitaten aus dem Römerbrief

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definiert: Das Gesetz erreget Zorn (Röm 4) und Die Sünde wird grösser durchs Gesetz (Röm 5).25 Diese lineare Abbildung richtet den Blick auf die Heilsgeschichte. Die Bewegung geht von der rechten Seite nach links, in genau entgegengesetzter Richtung als das vorausgegangene neunte Emblem und gleichzeitig von hinten nach vorne. Mose mit den Tafeln des Gesetzes in der linken Hand drückt mit seinem Stab einen Menschen auf den Erdboden. Das geöffnete, d.h. gültige Gesetzbuch bewirkt die Ohnmacht und den Tod des Menschen (der mit geschlossenen Augen und der linken Hand auf dem Herz am Boden liegt). Mit Luthers Worten: “Diß ist nun unser Theologia, welche lehret das für der vernunfft gar wunderlich und seltzam ist / nemblich / daß ich gegen dem Gesetz nicht allein Blind unnd Taub / sondern gantz und gar Todt sein soll.” In Scholion zu Ps 51 schreibt er: Als Sünder, und nur als Sünder, können wir von der Gnade Gottes erfahren. Das müssen wir aber erst akzeptieren: Dann, werden wir Sünder, wenn wir anerkennen, dass wir solche sind, das wir solche vor Gott sind (WA 3, 288, 6f).26 Auf dem kleinen Hügel gegenüber steht Christus und ein vom Tod zum Leben berufener Mensch. Die linke, auf das Herz gedrückte Hand des liegenden ist jetzt durch die rechte ersetzt worden. Sie zeigt die Demut, weil der Mensch ohne Werke und Verdienste neu geboren wurde, durch sola gratia. Das konnte nur in Christus geschehen. Das symbolische Zertreten der Schlange stellt die Erfüllung der Prophetie aus dem Buch Genesis dar (Gn 3,15). Dass es wegen der Sünde Adams nicht ein Werk des Menschen sein konnte, bezeugt auch Adams Schädel unter dem linken Fuß Christi . Zwei Gestalten beider Testamente sind aussagekräftig präsentiert. Mose als derjenige, der die Trennung bringt und mit dem Gesetz auch forciert (nach unten drückender Stock). Die Kopfhörner symbolisieren das Strahlen seines Gesichtes nach der Begegnung mit Gott (Ex 34, 27-35). Dem entspricht Christi strahlende Gloriole. Christus im Gegensatz zu Mose ist derjenige, der verbindet, vereint. Wegelin bringt die Paulusworte: Ich aber bin durch das Gesetz dem Gesetz gestorben, damit ich für Gott lebe. Ich 25

„Aber das vornehmste Amt oder Kraft des Gesetzes ist, dass es die Erbsünde mit den Früchten und allem offenbare und dem Menschen zeige, wie gar tief seine Natur gefallen und grundlos verderbt ist, als dem das Gesetz sagen muss, dass er keinen Gott habe noch achte und bete fremde Götter an, welches er zuvor und ohne das Gesetz nicht geglaubt hätte. Damit wird er erschreckt, gedemütigt, verzagt, verzweifelt, wollte gern, dass ihm geholfen würde, und weiss nicht wo aus, fängt an, Gott feind zu werden und zu murren usw.“ (SA IV, 3, 2, 1-4). 26 Zitiert aus Reventlow, Epochen, 75.

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bin mit Christus gekreuzigt worden; nicht mehr ich lebe, sondern Christus lebt in mir (Gal 2,19-20). Moses Stock und Christi Kreuz bestimmen die Richtung des Gesetzes und des Evangeliums. Moses Stock ist von oben nach unten gerichtet. Der durch das Gesetz tote Mensch hält in der rechten Hand das Zeichen der Hoffnung—das horizontal auf Christus hin gestreckte Kreuz. Der neu Geborene hält (in der linken Hand) ein zum Himmel gerichtetes Kreuz, das Christi Kreuz mit der Fahne entspricht. Christi rechte Hand zeigt auch nach oben mit der bekannten symbolischen Haltung der Finger, den drei auf die Trinität bezogenen Fingern und den zwei Fingern, die die Lehre der zwei Naturen Christi andeuten. Die Rechtfertigung wird durch die jeweilige Wirkung der beiden Testamente theologisch begründet. Der abgestorbene und wieder belebte Mensch soll den Weg zur Rechtfertigung nach der richtigen Lehre abbilden. Die Lehre richtet sich gegen die sogenannten guten Werke, die im Artikel 20: Vom Glauben und guten Werken der Confessio Augustana beschrieben werden. Abgelehnt werden die „unnötigen Werke wie Rosenkränze, Heiligendienst, Mönchwerden, Wallfahrten, Fasten, Feiertage, Bruderschaften etc.” Wegelin stellt die Frage nach guten Werken in Luthers Lehre mit Worten aus dem Kommentar zu Galater 2 dar. Nachdem der Mensch gestorben ist und im Glauben wieder zum Leben erweckt wurde, gelangt er zur fides formata. Das heißt: Darnach wenn ich Christum durch den Glauben also ergriffen habe / und ich selbs dem Gesetz also abgestorben / von Sünden gerecht gemacht / und von dem Todt / Teuffel und höll erlöset bin / durch Christum / als denn bringe ich / als ein guter Baum gute Früchten / das ist / thu gute Werck / liebe GOtt / dancte ihm / erzeige liebe meinem nechsten. (S. 36/38)

Wegelins Buch enthält die wichtigsten umstrittenen Themen seiner Zeit. Er selber bezeichnet diese in seinem Vorwort als Hauptlehre. Bezeichnenderweise sind die für ihn wichtigsten theologischen Themen unpolemisch dargestellt. Sie werden als positive Werte an die Gemeinde adressiert. Das ist aus der Funktion und dem Zweck des Erbauungsbuches heraus auch leicht verständlich. Josua Wegelin bleibt im Buch auf der Text- und auf der Bildebene der Lutherischen Lehre durchaus treu. Neben den guten Kenntnissen der protestantischen Theologie zeigt Wegelin eine kreative Fähigkeit, seinen Lesern auch komplexe Themen verständlich und packend darzulegen. Zum Schluss zwei Bemerkungen: Zuerst eine wirkungsgeschichtliche Beobachtung. Das höchst interessante, theologisch sauber und didaktisch ausgezeichnet ausgearbeitete Buch blieb über Jahrhunderte im Besitz

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heute unbekannter Personen im Archiv eingeschlossen, ohne eine direkte Wirkung auf die Adressaten ausüben zu dürfen. Andererseits prägt ein Fresko, der Zeuge eines geschichtlich begrenzten Verständnisses des Verhältnisses der zwei Testamente, Generationen von Gläubigen und von Besuchern der Kirche von Žehra bis zur Gegenwart. Die zweite Bemerkung gilt der Frage, wie das Werk im bischöflichen Archiv von Spišská Kapitula gelandet ist. Zu vermuten ist, dass es sich um ein Element der IndexLiteratur zum Studium der protestantischen Schriften handelte, wie die kurze Bemerkung „Sum M. Eliae Ku[o]gleri“ in der unteren rechten Ecke des Frontispizes vermuten lässt.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE DAS JESUITENDRAMA IM KONTEXT DER KONTROVERSTHEOLOGIE (AM BEISPIEL DER SLOWEKEI) LADISLAV KAýIC

Das Jesuitendrama ist ein bekanntes und wichtiges Phänomen in der Geschichte der Societas Jesu, einer der bedeutendsten Bildungsinstitutionen—in Vergangenheit und auch heute—historisch gesehen, nicht nur in Europa, sondern auch in Süd- und Mittelamerika sowie im Osten (Japan, China usw.). Zugleich gehörten die Jesuiten, wie allgemein bekannt, zu den wichtigsten Trägern der sog. Gegenreformation bzw. Rekatholisierung. Das an das humanistische Schuldrama anknüpfende Jesuitendrama war seit der Ratio studiorum (1599) ein wichtiger Bestandteil des Bildungssystems der Jesuiten, das mehrere Funktionen erfüllte: 1. Es war u.a. eine öffentliche Prüfung der Zöglinge einzelner Klassen (sog. declamationes, actiunculae, actio minor usw., d.h. kleinere Vorstellungstypen) oder des ganzen Kollegiums (actio major, drama majus oder comoedia generalis). 2. Es war zugleich Präsentation/Repräsentation einzelner Kollegien sowie des ganzen Ordens „nach Außen“ für die breitere Öffentlichkeit. 3. Das Jesuitendrama war auch ein wichtiges Mittel des Einflusses des Ordens auf die Bevölkerung der jeweiligen Städte oder Gebiete, u.a. im Rahmen des sog. Rekatholisierungsprozesses. Das Jesuitendrama hatte natürlich noch weitere Funktionen, z.B. diente es der Rekreation, der Belustigung und Unterhaltung der Zuschauer sowie der Zöglinge einzelner Kollegien vor allem in Form von verschiedenen Faschingskomödien u.ä. Die drei genannten Funktionen des Jesuitentheaters waren aber die wichtigsten, wobei sich der dritte Aspekt indirekt bzw. oft auch direkt auf das diesem Sammelband übergeordnete Thema bezieht.

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Wir werden uns dieser Problematik besonders anhand einiger Beispiele widmen, die mit Musik zu tun haben, denn Musik und Tanz spielten für das Jesuitendrama von Anfang an eine sehr wichtige Rolle; im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert ist das Jesuitendrama ohne Musik kaum vorstellbar.1 Im 16. Jahrhundert war das Konzept des Jesuitendramas im Grunde genommen noch stark humanistisch, die Jesuiten knüpften an das humanistische Schuldrama an, wobei die Musik anfangs oft nur ad hoc dem konkreten Spiel beigefügt wurde—z.B. als „Chöre“ zwischen den einzelnen Akten u.ä. Es genügt hier, ein Beispiel zu nennen, nämlich die Motetten des Münchener Kapellmeisters Orlando di Lasso (ca. 1532–1594), die im Rahmen eines am Corpus-Christi-Tag (Fronleichnamsfest) aufgeführten Jesuitendramas in München (1585) gesungen wurden:2 Zwischen „novas cantiones ab Orlando compositas“ befand sich z.B. Lassos Motette Ergo rex vivat, die zum ersten Mal anlässlich des Besuches des Kaiser in München 1582 aufgeführt wurde. Die Komposition wurde im Jesuitendrama am Tag des Fronleichnamsfestes also zu einem ganz anderen Zweck bzw. zu einer anderen Gelegenheit verwendet als für die, zu der sie komponiert worden war. Einen großen bzw. entscheidenden Impuls für die Entwicklung des Jesuitentheaters gab jene Komposition, die im Rahmen der großen, drei Tage dauernden Feierlichkeiten anlässlich der Kanonisierung zweier wichtiger Heiliger des Jesuitenordens 1622 in Rom aufgeführt wurde und die mit dem Thema dieses Beitrags eng zusammenhängt: Apotheosis sive consecratio SS. Ignatii et Francisci Xaverii mit der Musik von Girolamo (Hieronymus) Kapsberger (ca. 1580–1651).

Dieser Beitrag entand im Rahmen des Projektes „Polemická teológia a jej kontexty na Slovensku v novoveku“ (Polemical Theology and Its Contexts in Early Modern Slovakia), VEGA 2/0170/12. 1 Zu Struktur und Inhalt des Jesuitendramas sowie zur Rolle der Musik im Jesuitentheater siehe näher z.B. Ladislav Kaþic, “Jezuitská školská hra, hudba, tanec,” Slovenské divadlo 46, no. 1 (1998): 33-42, bzw. derselbe, “Musik und Tanz im Jesuitendrama Mitteleuropas des 17. und 18. Jahrhunderts,” in Bohemia Jesuitica 1556– 2006, Tomus 2, ed. Petronilla ýemus (Praha: Univerzita Karlova–Nakladatelství Karolinum, 2010), 1053-1060. 2 Franz Körndle, “Ad te perenne gaudium: Lassos Musik zum Vltimum Judicium,” Musikforschung 53 (2000): 68-71; derselbe, “Orlando di Lasso’s ‘Firework’ Music,” Early Music 32, no. 1 (2004): 96-116; derselbe, “Lassos Musik für das Theater der Münchner Jesuiten,” in Musik in Bayern, Bd. 72/73 (Jahrgang 2007/2008), ed. Christian Leitmeir, Stephan Hörner und Berhold Schmid (Tutzing: H. Schneider, 2010), 147-158. Siehe auch Vorwort zu Orlando di Lasso, “The Complete Motets 21,” ed. Peter Bergquist (Middleton, WI: A-R Editions, Inc., 2006), XXI.

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Strukturell handelt es sich bei diesem Werk jedoch nicht um ein typisches Jesuitendrama, sondern—übrigens auch „genremäßig“—um eine geistliche Oper („Rappresentatione sacra“), wie sie in der Zeit des Frühbarock für Rom typisch war (später wurde die geistliche Oper auch in Neapel und in anderen italienischen Städten komponiert). Das Stück Kapsbergers bietet einen gänzlich vertonten Text mit längeren monodischen Passagen, mit kurzen einfachen Chören und Instrumentalmusik (Ritornelle, Sinfonien usw.) sowie mit Tänzen und Ballett. Diese Elemente waren jedoch alle eher für die frühbarocke Oper typisch (Monteverdi, Landi usw.) und nicht für das jesuitische Schuldrama. Den größten Unterschied aber gab es in der Struktur des Jesuitendramas: Prologus – Actus I – Chorus I – Actus II – Chorus II – Actus III – Epilogus, wobei Prolog, Epilog und beide zwischenaktigen Chöre komplett vertont wurden (die Musik kommt von Zeit zu Zeit auch in den einzelnen Akten des Jesuitendramas im 17. Jahrhundert vor, im 18. Jahrhundert war dies eher eine Ausnahme). In der Komposition Kapsbergers treten—ähnlich wie in der frühbarocken Oper sowie in den zwischenaktigen Chören des Jesuitendramas—viele personifizierte Gestalten auf (Roma, Gallia, Italia, Palestina, India, Sina/China u.v.a.), das Werk (d.h. die Musik) an sich ist eigentlich sehr einfach und „undramatisch“ (im Vergleich z.B. zu den Opern Monteverdis!), es handelt sich—wie es schon der Titel des Werkes andeutet—um „reine“ Apotheose bzw. Panegyrik der neuen Heiligen (des hl. Ignatius und des hl. Franz Xaver). Dieses Werk hat demnach zwar keine große bzw. direkte Bedeutung für die weitere Entwicklung des jesuitischen Schuldramas in struktureller Hinsicht, war allerdings als Vorbild für ähnliche „Apotheosen des Jesuitenordens“ inklusive seine universelle Wirkung in der ganzen damaligen Welt sehr wichtig, außerdem im Rahmen der Propaganda des richtigen, d.h. des römisch-katholischen Glaubens (Propaganda fide). Im deutschsprachigen Raum, zu dem ganz Mitteleuropa und auch die heutige Slowakei gehörte, übten solche Kompositionen wie Apotheosis sive consecratio SS. Ignatii et Francisci Xaverii demnach keinen direkten Einfluss aus (obwohl eine zeitgenössische Abschrift der Komposition Kapsbergers auch in Wien überliefert ist).3 Im folgenden Beitrag werden wir uns auf die Situation der wichtigsten Jesuitenkollegien der heutigen Slowakei beschränken,4 die Bestandteil 3

Österreichische Nationalbibliothek Wien, Musiksammlung, Sign. Mus.Hs.16013. Darüber hinaus gibt es nur ein anderes Manuskript (Autograph) der Komposition in Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Sign. Rés. F. 1075. 4 Mehr über die Jesuitenkollegien in der Slowakei bei Emil Krapka SJ und Vojtech Mikula SJ, Dejiny Spoloþnosti Ježišovej na Slovensku 1561–1988 (Cambridge, ON: Dobrá kniha, 1990).

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einer großen, sich von Passau bis nach Uzhorod (in der Ukraine) ausbreitenden Provincia Austriae Societatis Jesu waren. Die Forschung muss sich dabei meistens auf zeitgenössische Angaben und Nachrichten aus den Diarien, Annuae litterae usw. beschränken, denn sowohl die vollständigen Dramentexte, als auch die Programme der Jesuitenspiele (sog. Periochen) aus diesem Raum sind nur sehr selten überliefert, wenn man die Zahl der überlieferten Quellen mit der Zahl der aufgeführten Schuldramen vergleicht.5 Die „Apotheosen“ der beiden wichtigsten Ordensheiligen kommen am häufigsten im 17. Jahrhundert vor, als der Jesuitenorden noch um „seinen Platz an der Sonne“ mit Protestanten bis zum „Sieg der Gegenreformation“ kämpfen musste. In der Slowakei und im ganzen damaligen Königreich Ungarn waren dies besonders die 70er Jahre des 17. Jahrhunderts. So wurde 1640 z.B. in Trnava/Tyrnau, d.h. im wichtigsten Jesuitenkollegium in der Slowakei (und dem zweitwichtigsten Kollegium nach Wien in der ganzen Österreichischen Provinz) die Vita Sancti Ignatii aufgeführt: „Ignatianae vitae scenam solemni apparatu et symbola ejus praeclare actorum expositione in theatro clauderemus.“6 Unter der Bezeichnung solemnis apparatus ist unter anderem bzw. vor allem die Musik zu verstehen. In den Jahren 1651 und 1657 wurde in Trnava wiederum ein ähnliches Drama über den hl. Franz Xaver aufgeführt,7 wobei das zweite Drama (1657) als „Mission“ für das neugegründete Jesuitenkollegium in Trentschin/Trenþín gedacht war („at illud singulare Musae amoeniores sibi vendicant, quod Trenchinum evocatae“).8 Trenþín war nämlich im 17. Jahrhundert fast zur Gänze protestantisch (und slowakisch), und die Gründung eines Jesuitenkollegiums stieß hier im Vergleich mit anderen Gebieten auf größere Schwierigkeiten. Am 31. Juli 1698 wurde in Trnava wieder ein Drama über den hl. Ignatius aufgeführt, wobei der Chronist folgende interessante Angabe bringt (der Text bzw. weitere Angaben über dieses Stück sind, wie in beinahe allen anderen Fällen, leider nicht bekannt):

5

Die Angaben aus den Diarien der einzelnen Kollegien, aus den Annuae litterae sowie Angaben zu den gedruckten und handschriftlich überlieferten Dramentexten und Periochen hat vorbildlich Géza Staud in seiner monumentalen vierbändigen Arbeit publiziert – Géza Staud, A magyarországi jezsuita iskolai színjátékok forrásai (1581– 1773). Fontes ludorum scenicorum in scholiis S. J. Hungariae, Vier Bände (Budapest: Magyar Tudományos Akadémia, 1984–1994). 6 Staud I, 93. 7 Ibid., 103-104, bzw. 105-106. 8 Ibid., 105-106.

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Am Tag des hl. Ignatius wurde im großen Theater ein Drama gespielt, das die Antithese der Lehre des Heiligen und derjenigen von Niccolò Machiavelli darstellte.9

In Pressburg/Bratislava wurde ein Drama über den hl. Ignatius sogar schon früher als in Trnava vor einer großen Menge von Zuschauern gespielt, u. zw.: 1628 kam nach einem zum Fronleichnamsfest im Rahmen der Prozession aufgeführten Spiel in vier Sprachen (d.h. lateinisch, deutsch, slowakisch, ungarisch) noch ein zweites Drama hinzu: „Alterum in 8va S. Patris Ignatii . . . praesente maximo populo audivit . . .“,10 d.h. auch dieses Schuldrama wurde von der breiten Bevölkerung rezipiert. Den Forschungen des ungarischen Theatrologen G. Staud zufolge ist die Zahl solcher „panegyrischen“, dem hl. Ignatius und hl. Franz Xaver gewidmeten Jesuitenschuldramen bei uns von Ende des 17. Jahrhunderts an zurückgetreten und im 18. Jahrhundert kommen sie nur sehr selten vor (z.B. 1713 in Banská Bystrica/Neusohl in der Mittelslowakei:„am Fest des hl. Vaters Ignatius spielten im Theater die Syntaxisten zur großen Zufriedenheit der Zuschauer“11 oder 1717 in Prešov/Preschau: „der Magister der Syntaxisten hat [ein Drama] über den hl. Xaver gespielt, der Indien . . . erneuerte“).12 Die unter dem Aspekt des Themas und in Zusammenhang mit der interkonfessionellen Polemik wichtigsten Theateraufführungen waren eindeutig die mit dem Fronleichnamsfest (Festum Corporis Christi) und mit der Fastenzeit bzw. mit der Karwoche verbundenen. In Trnava wurde schon 1617, d.h. noch vor der zweiten Gründung eines Jesuitenkollegiums, sowie der Gründung der Jesuiten-Universität (1635) u.a. das Drama Elias gespielt: (1617) Mit nicht geringem Beifall und Zustimmung wurden zwei Dramen vor dem Erzbischof von Esztergom und anderen Prälaten und Magnaten aufgeführt; am nächsten Tag wurde das Drama Elias während der feier-

9

Ibid., 119: „Die Sancti Ignatii majori in theatro productum drama, quod antithesin doctrinae eiusdem coelitis et Nicolai Machiavelli graphice exhibuit.“ Für den Anstoß, dass diese Angabe zu dieser Problematik gehört, danke ich meinem Kollegen Svorad Zavarský sehr herzlich. 10 Ibid., 367. 11 Staud II, 326: „Et in solennitate Divi Patris Ignatii Syntaxistae prolixius cum spectatorum approbatione lusere in theatro.“ 12 Ibid., 443: „Magister syntaxistae [sic!] produxit Sanctum Xaverium qui Indiam fame fatiscentem et imo pereuntem refecit.“

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Chapter Twenty-One lichen Fronleichnamsprozession, die vor unserer Kirche Station machte, aufgeführt.13

Ebenfalls wurden 1631–1632 in Trnava ähnliche Spiele in drei Sprachen (ungarisch, slowakisch, deutsch) aufgeführt: (1631) Verschiedene eucharistische Symbole wurden in ungarischer, slowakischer und deutscher Sprache inszeniert.14 (1632) Am Fronleichnamsfest wurde von [unserem] Kollegium ein Drama auf die alte Art vor der großen Menge des Volkes . . . gespielt.15

Sogar in den kleineren Jesuitenkollegien wurde während solcher Prozessionen vor allem am Fronleichnamsfest Theater gespielt, z.B. in ŠaĐa (Sellia) während der Wirkungszeit des großen Reformators der katholischen Kirche im Königreich Ungarn, des damaligen Rektors des Kollegiums und späteren Primas des Königreichs Ungarn P. Pázmány. Im Jahr 1601 gab es in ŠaĐa aber auch einen Akt der Konversion (gewiss eines Adeligen),16 der sich wie eine Komödie darstellte, um damit die Aufmerksamkeit der „Häretiker“ zu erzielen: (1601) Nachdem die Gründe seiner Konversion dem Volk in ungarischer Sprache, die das Volk am besten versteht, erklärt waren, rief er mit brennendem und schon ganz erfülltem Herzen das katholische Glaubensbekenntnis aus und empfing schließlich vom hochwürdigsten Herrn Franziskus Forgách, dem Bischof von Nitra, die Eucharistie. Es war eine Neuigkeit für die adeligen Häretiker, die an diesem Tag in die Kirche gekommen waren, als ob sie . . . eine „Komödie“ anzuschauen gedachten . . . einen heiteren Epilog fügte unser Prediger dieser Aktion von der Kanzel herab hinzu.17 13

Staud I, 83: „Non mediocri plausu et approbatione data item Dramata duo praesentibus Illustrissimo Archiepiscopo Strigoniensi, aliisque Praelatis et Magnatibus. Alterum die Elia cum in solenni circumgestatione Sanctissimi Corporis Christi processio ante nostrum templum stationem haberet.“ 14 Ibid., 88: „Symbola varia Eucharistica hungarice, slavice ac germanice in scenam data.“ 15 Ibid., 89: „In Corporis Christi pompa a collegio more veteri acta est populi frequentia et datis dramatis.“ 16 Es ist wahrscheinlich, dass es sich um Nicolaus Esterházy (1583–1645), den späteren Palatin handelt (er hat damals am Jesuitengymnasium in ŠaĐa studiert). 17 Staud I, 342: „Itaque conversionis suae causis ad populum explicitis, idiomate Hungarico, quo populus intelligeret clarissime, ardentissime atque adeò toto pectore professionem fidei Catholicae proclamavit, et denique à Reverendissimo Domino D.

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Solche Theateraufführungen übten großen Einfluss auf die Andersgläubigen („Häretiker“) aus; Ähnliches konnte überall beobachtet werden, z.B. wurden in Bratislava solche Aufführungen auch unter freiem Himmel (am Hauptplatz oder vor dem Franziskanerkloster) gespielt, z.B.: (1628) Begrüßungen wurden vor den Altären von unserer Jugend gemacht, und der erste Dialog zur Ehre des Heiligen Sakraments wurde am Platz vor dem Franziskanerkloster gehalten.18

Die mit den Prozessionen—auch am Karfreitag oder am Passionssonntag —verbundenen Schauspiele wurden oft mit den Predigten in den sog. Vernakularsprachen verbunden, wie z.B. in Bratislava: (1646) Nach zwei Predigten auf Deutsch und Slowakisch . . . wurden die Mysterien . . . vor der großen Menge des Volkes inklusive der Häretiker szenisch dargestellt.19

An solchen Theatervorstellungen nahm demnach regelmäßig die ganze Bevölkerung der Stadt inklusive die Protestanten teil, z.B. 1647 in Bratislava: (1647) Zu den Fastenexhortationen strömten nicht nur Katholiken, sondern auch Nicht-Katholiken und die Knechte der Prediger [?]: sie kamen der Zahl der Katholiken gleich, oft und öfter übertrafen sie sie sogar.20 (1649) Am Fronleichnamsfest . . . haben die Schüler den Sünder symbolisch dargestellt.21

Francisco Forgatz Episcopo Nitriensi caelesti pani refectus est. Res nova et nobilibus haereticis, qui dolo bono à viris Catholicis tamquam comoediam spectaturi in templum eo die acciti fuerant, . . . laetum huic toti actioni concionator noster è cathedra in qua velut praeses assidebat, epilogum imponuit.“ 18 Ibid., 367: „Salutationes ante altaria a juventute nostra factae et primus Dialogismus honori SS. Sacramenti habitus in publico foro ante Franciscanum Monasterium de Figuris Veteris Testamenti Eucharistiam repraesentantibus.“ 19 Ibid., 372: „Conciones binae Germanica et Slavica habitae, quadragesimae tempore praeposito Venerabili Sacramento alternis per hebdomadam 50. psalmus decantatus; post hunc de Dominicae Passionis mysteriis, quae per scenas e theatro repraesentabantur ad frequentem populum ipsis etiam sectariis ad spectandum agminatim confluentibus.“ (Hervorhebung des Autors.) 20 Ibid., 373: „Ad Quadragesimales exhortationes non tum Catholici, sed et Acatholici et Praedicantium servuli affluxerunt: Catholicorum numerum adaequarunt, saepe saepius superarunt.“ 21 Ibid., 374: „Scholae . . . in solemnnitate Corporis Christi in scenam dederunt symbolum . . . sub apodosi peccatoris.“

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Chapter Twenty-One (1674) Unsere Musen haben das von den häretischen Didaskaloi [d.h. Protestanten/Lutheraner] . . . gebaute Theater bestiegen und spielten vor dem zahlreichen Volk und Adel ein Drama, dessen Inhalt dem in Laibach glich: Trebelius Bulgarorum Rex.22

Es handelt sich um das Spiel eines der bedeutendsten jesuitischen Dramatiker überhaupt—P. Nicolaus Avancini (1618–1686), ein ähnliches Spiel wurde vorher auch in Laibach/Ljubljana aufgeführt (das Programm der Pressburger Aufführung ist ausnahmsweise nicht in Bratislava, sondern in Wien gedruckt).23 Die Jesuiten hatten immer großes Gewicht auf den Einfluss ihrer Schuldramen auf die Andersgläubigen gelegt, deshalb wurden oft die sog. Vernakularsprachen verwendet (auch in anderen Städten der Slowakei, je nach Nationalität der Bevölkerung). Zudem wurden Prozessionen und damit verbundene Schuldramen oft mit großem Pomp gestaltet, etwa mit Trompeten und Pauken sowie Kanonenschüssen usw., z.B.: Banská Bystrica (1649) Die Prozession am Fronleichnamstag war wegen des Unwetters nicht so schön wie gewöhnlich, wir wurden dennoch von Tympanen und Trompeten sowie feierlichen Kanonenschüssen begleitet. Auf dem Platz fügte „der Hausherr aus dem Evangelium“ der Prozession nicht geringe Ehre hinzu, da er die „Hungrigen“ zum großen Heilsmahl [d.h. zur Kommunion] einlud.24 Levoþa (1677) Am Karfreitag wurde die Passion auf Slowakisch gesungen, danach wurde das angenehme Spiel zu Ehren von Christus gespielt.25

22

Ibid., 377: „Musae nostrae prima vice theatrum ab Haereticis didascalis olim pro suarum exhibitione comoediarum constructum inscenderunt dederuntque confertissimo populo et nobilitati actionem cuius idem quod Labacensis argumentum erat: Trebelius BulgarorUm Rex.“ 23 Ibid., 376-377. 24 Staud II, 322: „Processionem St. Corporis Christi ob intemperiem coeli, qvamvis ea qua proposueramus solennitate non exornaverimus, cum tamen timpanis, tubis festivisque explosionum ictibus prosecuti sumus. Evangelicus Pater Familias ei non exiguum dedit decorem in foro ad coenam magnam invitans salutis esurientes.“ 25 Ibid., 444: „Die Parasceves . . . decantata Passio Slavonice, post hanc fuit actio in honorem Christi gratiosa.“

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(1700) Am Palmsonntag wurde die Passion von Studenten in Vernakularsprache gesungen.26 Banská Štiavnica / Schemnitz (1650) Am Karfreitag wurden vor dem Grab des Herrn kleine Spiele in deutscher Sprache mit großem Zustrom von Nicht-Katholiken aufgeführt.27 (1691) Die das Mysterium der Eucharistie erklärenden Verse in deutscher Sprache.28 Prešov (1717) Die Rhetorik und Poetik haben zwei Dramen aufgeführt. Die nach Art der Komödie [im Gewand des gemeinen Volkes] gekleideten Jungen haben auf Deutsch, Slowakisch und Ungarisch zur Versammlung des Volkes geredet. 29

Vom Aspekt der möglichst besten Einwirkung auf die breitesten Schichten der Gläubigen wurden solche Theatervorstellungen fast ausschließlich in der Sprache der Bevölkerung gespielt, z.B. in Trenþín auf Slowakisch—Passionsspiele 1663, 1665, 1669 usw., aber auch das Schuldrama Josephus Aegyptum a fame praeservans am Fronleichnamsfest (1665), ja sogar das kurze, komplett vertonte Passionsspiel Opera a duetto de Amara Passione Domini Nostri Jesu Christi (1668) von Josef Schreier (1718–?), wobei Trenþín im 17. Jahrhundert fast gänzlich protestantisch (evangelisch A.B.) war.30 Natürlich waren alle genannten Vorstellungen mit Musik verbunden: vom Gregorianischen Choral beginnend (gregorianische Passion mit vierstimmigen „Turba“-Chören) bis zum Kirchenlied, verschiedene Trompetenaufzüge bis zur speziell zu diesem Zweck komponierten Musik, z.B. Varia patientis Christi symbola 1642 in Bratislava mit „Trauermusik und von Jungen rezitierten Versen, verschiedene Zeichen des leidenden Christus darstellend,“31 „am Karfreitag . . . fand die Prozession mit verschiedenen Auftritten, Versen, Rezitationen statt, sowie mit

26

Ibid., 446: „Dominica Palmarum cantatus [sic!] a studiosis Passio vernacula lingua.“ Ibid., 347: „Actiunculae Germanicae exhibitae ad Sepulchrum Domini et in festo Theoforiae cum magno etiam acatholicorum accursu.“ 28 Ibid., 348: „Rhythmi misterium Eucharistiae explicantes germanico idiomate.“ 29 Ibid., 417: „Eloquentia et humanitas bina dramata proposuerit. Juvenes comice vestiti, germanice, slavonice et ungarice ad coetum populi perorarunt.“ 30 Vgl. näher Ladislav Kaþic, “Hudba v školských hrách trenþianskych jezuitov,” Slovenské divadlo 44, no. 4 (1996): 439-446. 31 Staud I, 372: „Lugubris musica et versus adolescentibus inter varia patientis Christi symbola recitati.“ 27

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religiöser Musik“32 oder „Prozession der Flagellanten mit Trompeten, Musik und mit Verse über den leidenden Christus rezitierenden Knaben“ 33 u.ä. Mit theologischer Polemik hängt auch das Thema der Märtyrer-Spiele zusammen, die auch bei den Jesuiten in der Slowakei sehr oft gespielt wurden. In Trnava begann 1634 eine ganze Reihe solcher Spiele zu Sancta Barbara, sie setzte 1635 mit Sancta Agatha fort34 (am häufigsten wurde das Martyrium des hl. Stephan des Protomärtyrers bearbeitet), aber auch die weniger bekannten Märtyrer „kamen zu Wort“ (z.B. Gratianus et Donatianus, Banská Štiavnica 1702).35 Im 18. Jahrhundert waren solche Spiele mit der Thematik des Triumphs eines konkreten Heiligen oder Märtyrers immer noch ein wichtiger Bestandteil des Jesuitendramas.36 Was die anfangs genannten beiden wichtigsten Ordensheiligen betrifft, sind zwei Kompositionen vom Ende der 50er Jahre des 18. Jahrhunderts im Archiv der Preßburger Jesuiten überliefert, also aus einer Zeit, in der die Polemik schon in einer etwas anderer Linie geführt wurde.37 Beide wurden mehrmals zwischen 1760 und 1765 in der Preßburger Jesuitenkirche aufgeführt: 1. G. Ch. Wagenseil: Oratorio per la novenna di Sancto Xaverio (Giorno I – Giorno IV); 2. G. Ch. Wagenseil: Oratorio de S. Ignatio (unvollständig). Zu beiden Kompositionen verfasste der berühmte kaiserliche Hofkomponist aus Wien Georg Christoph Wagenseil (1715–1777) die Musik.38 Die Texte des unbekannten Librettisten in beiden Oratorien haben jedoch keinen starken polemischen Aspekt und sind auch keine eindeutigen „Apo32 Ibid.: „Feria quinta maioris Hebdomadae . . . processionem eduxerunt variis distinctam symbolis, versum, recitatione atque musico concentu pio.“ 33 Staud II, 347: „Processio flagellantium cum tubis, musica et puerorum ex symboli Christi patientis recitationibus.“ 34 Satud I, 90-91. 35 Staud II, 349. 36 Die Jesuiten haben nie so viele ausschließlich „weltliche“ Themen auf die Bühne gebracht wie z.B. die Piaristen, die sogar Molière gespielt haben, cf. z.B. Ladislav Kaþic, “Hudba v školskej hre piaristov na Slovensku v 17. a 18. storoþí,” Musicologica slovaca 29, no. 3 (2012): 165-194. 37 Cf. Ivona Kollárová, “Ex Bibliotheca Polemico-Catechetica Posoniensi S. J.: Die Edition der Preßburger Jesuiten als Medium der interkonfessionellen Kommunikation,” in Aurora Musas nutrit. Die Jesuiten und die Kultur Mitteleuropas im 16.– 18. Jahrhundert, ed. Ladislav Kaþic und Svorad Zavarský (Bratislava: Slavistický ústav Jána Stanislava SAV, 2008), 35-50. 38 Siehe näher Ladislav Kaþic, “Schuldramen und Oratorien bei den Preßburger Jesuiten im 18. Jahrhundert,” Musicologica Brunensia 49, no. 1 (2014): 275-290.

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theosen“ mehr; es handelt sich vielmehr um vier selbständige Kantaten bzw. um einen Kantaten-Zyklus (Giorno I – Giorno IV in Oratorio per la novenna di Sancto Xaverio), der nicht auf einmal, sondern selbständig an vier Tagen der Novene aufgeführt wurde und jedes Mal wahrscheinlich auch mit einer für das Oratorium typischen Rede bzw. Predigt verbunden war. Der Text der Komposition ist an sich sehr „konfliktlos“, auch keinesfalls dramatisch, eher mystisch und einzelne Teile (Rezitative, Arien bzw. Duette sowie die jeden „Giorno“ abschliessenden Chöre) haben nur die typischen Merkmale der Xaverianischen Spiritualität (Abkehr von Welt und Reichtum, Hingabe an den Willen Gottes usw.) zum Inhalt.39 Im 18. Jahrhundert waren die polemischen Aspekte solcher Werke im Vergleich zum vorigen Jahrhundert schon sehr mild und konfliktlos, und obwohl die Konversionen zum Katholizismus noch in Gange waren, befinden wir uns schon in einem neuen, aufklärerischen Zeitalter.

39

Ibid., 288.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO FRÜHNEUZEITLICHE PASSIONSPROZESSIONSSPIELE ALS PROJEKT DER KATHOLISCHEN ERNEUERUNG JAŠA DRNOVŠEK

In ihrem Aufsatz „Das Passionsspiel zur Zeit der Gegenreformation“ geht Ellen Hastaba der Frage nach, inwiefern sich frühneuzeitliche Passionsspiele (der Alpenregion) als „Kampfstücke des katholischen Glaubens“1 begreifen lassen. Während das Prädikat gegenreformatorisch vor allem Legendenund sogenannten Rosenkranzspielen2 zustehe, ließen sich die Passionsspiele—obwohl sie gerade zur Zeit der Gegenreformation ihren Höhepunkt erreichten—nicht in die Kategorie von Spielen mit einem „typisch gegenreformatorischen Charakter“3 einordnen. In ihrer Begründung beruft sich Hastaba zum einen auf Martin Luther (1483–1546), dessen Behauptungen in puncto Passionsspiele „keine einheitliche Linie“, sondern eher ein „[P]endeln zwischen Befürwortung und Ablehnung“4 erkennen ließen: Im Gegensatz zur Herausbildung seiner ablehnenden Haltung den Legenden gegenüber läßt sich in den Aussagen die Passion betreffend keine zeit-

1

Ellen Hastaba, “Das Passionsspiel zur Zeit der Gegenreformation. Das Passionsspiel als gegenreformatorisches Spiel?—Spiele der Gegenreformation,” in "Hört, sehet, weint und liebt". Passionsspiele im alpenländischen Raum, eds. Michael Henker (München: Haus der Bayerischen Geschichte, 1990), 67. 2 Zu Rosenkranzspielen cf. Norbert Hölzl, Alpenländische Barockdramen. Kampf- und Tendenzstücke der Tiroler Gegenreformation (Wien: Böhlau, 1970). 3 Hastaba, „Das Passionsspiel zur Zeit der Gegenreformation,“ 67. 4 Ibid., 68.

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liche Abfolge feststellen, die einen kontinuierlichen Meinungsbildungsprozeß dokumentieren würde.5

Darüber hinaus merkt Hastaba an, dass es zumindest zu Beginn der protestantischen Bewegung „bedeutende [protestantische] Verfasser von Passionsspielen“6 gegeben habe, so z.B. Sebastian Wild (gest. 1583), Jakob Rueff (1500–1558) und Hans Sachs (1494–1576). Sie betont, dass Spiele dieser drei Autoren später, zum Teil noch im 17. Jahrhundert, in die katholische Passionsspieltradition aufgenommen wurden: Ein Gutteil des Rueff-Textes ging in die Villinger Passion ein, die Hälfte des Oberammergauer Textes von 1662 läßt sich auf Wild zurückführen. Die Spuren, die Hans Sachs’ Bearbeitung der Leidensgeschichte in den katholischen Alpenländern gezogen hat, hat Karl Konrad Polheim […] aufgezeigt […].7

Nun lassen sich Hastabas Ausführungen bis hierher gut nachvollziehen und ihrer These vom untypisch-gegenreformatorischen Charakter der frühneuzeitlichen Passionsspiele ist grundsätzlich zuzustimmen—jedoch nur bis zu einem gewissen Punkt, denn: Sobald man die Inszenierungs- bzw. Aufführungsmodi jener Spiele bedenkt, erweist sich ihre Behauptung nur noch bedingt gültig. Diejenigen Passionsspiele, die Hastaba in ihrem Aufsatz ausdrücklich erwähnt, sind allesamt der Kategorie zuzuordnen, die—in Städten zumeist auf dem Marktplatz—auf einer statischen, ortsgebundenen Bühne aufgeführt wurden. Das heißt, dass die gesamte schauspielerische Handlung auf eben solch einer fest installierten Bühne stattfand. Doch lassen sich seit dem 16. Jahrhundert neben diesen, aus heutiger Sicht herkömmlichen Passionsspielen zunehmend auch solche auffinden, die—im Gegensatz zu der von Hastaba erfassten Kategorie—innerhalb von Prozessionen oder sogar als Prozession aufgeführt wurden. Gerade dieses—sozusagen: prozessionale, d.h. die Prozession betreffende—Moment der frühneuzeitlichen Passionsspiele möchte ich als typisch gegenreformatorisch bezeichnen. Bevor ich jedoch jenen typisch gegenreformatorischen Charakter der Prozessionsspiele an einigen konkreten Beispielen festmachen werde, beziehe ich mich zunächst—um meine These zu bekräftigen—auf das zweiteilige, im Jahre 1606 auf Latein erschienene und 1612 ins Deutsche übertragene Procession Buch Jakob Gretsers (1562–1625). Bekanntlich gehörte 5

Ibid. Ibid., 70. 7 Ibid., 70f. 6

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Gretser—als „Dramatiker und Philologe, Dogmatiker und Moralist, Liturgiker und Historiker, Archäologe und Numismatiker, Apologet und Exeget, Dichter, Gelehrter und Seelsorger zugleich“8—der Gesellschaft Jesu an, d.h. den Ordensgeistlichen, die historisch gesehen mit den Kapuzinern für „die Orden der katholischen Erneuerung“9 stehen. Mehr noch: Als „Hæreticorum, & calumniatorum Societatis terror“,10 wie dessen Ordenskollege Philipp Alegambe (1592–1652) ihn einmal nannte, ist Gretser zu seiner Zeit „neben Petrus Canisius [1521–1597] [als] einer der bedeutendsten Jesuiten auf deutschem Boden“11 anzusehen. Gretsers gegenreformatorische Schriften sind im Allgemeinen höchst polemisch im Ton und werden durch eine „polternde Schreibart“ gekennzeichnet, die „peinlich von der ignatianischen Ordensdisziplin, der sachlich-korrekten Sprache [Robert] Bellarmins [1542–1621] und der versöhnlichen Art des […] Canisius ab[sticht]“.12 Das ist auch in seinem Procession Buch nicht anders. Besonders im achten Kapitel des ersten Teils, das den Titel „Von der Lehre / Lugen vnd Lästerworten / so Luther vnd andere newgebachne Lehrer / wider die Processionen / Bitt- vn Creutzfahrten außgestossen“ trägt, geht Gretser mit seinen protestantischen Gegnern hart ins Gericht. Ein erster Anlass dafür ist Martin Luthers Predigt „Kurtzer Vnderricht für die Schwachglaubigen, wie sie sich an den Bettagen oder Creutzwochen / in den Proceßionen halten sollen“, die im Jahr 1527 veröffentlicht wurde. Darin habe Luther begonnen, „die Processiones auffs dusserst zuuerschhimpfen / als die ein Vrsach / Gelegenheit / Fürschub vnd Deckmantel seyen alles Mißbrauchs / aller Büberey / aller Schandt vnd Laster“.13 Mit den Prozessionen sei „ein solcher lästerlicher Mißbrauch“ getrieben worden, dass man inn der Proceßion / nur sehen vnd gesehen seyn will / eytel vnnütz Geschwetz vnnd Lächerey treiben / ich will geschweigen grösserer Stück vnnd Sünden: Darzu die Dorffproceßion allererst toll worden seyndt / 8

Hermann König, “Jakob Gretser S. J. (1562–1625). Ein Charakterbild,” Freiburger Diözesanarchiv, vol. 77 (1957), 139. 9 Ronnie Po-chia Hsia, Gegenreformation. Die Welt der katholischen Erneuerung (Frankfurt a. M.: Fischer, 1998), 37 (Hervorhebung von mir). 10 Philippe de Alegambe, Bibliotheca Scriptorum Societatis Iesv, Post excusum Anno 1608 (Antverpiae/Antwerp: Meursius, 1643), 199. 11 König, “Jakob Gretser S. J. (1562-1625),” 139. 12 Ibid., 141. 13 Jacob Gretser, Procession Buch / Das ist: Catholischer Grundt vnd außführliche Erklärung / Von den heiligen Bettfahrten / Creutzgängen vnd Processionen / so nach vhraltem Gebrauch / in der gantzen allgemeinen Christenheit gehalten werden (Ingolstadt: Angermayr, 1612), 80.

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daman mit Sauffen / vnd inn den Tabernen so handelt / mit den Creutzen und fahnen so fähret / daß nicht wunder were / daß vns Gott in einem Jar verderben liesse.14

Dem entgegnet Gretser mit drei Argumenten. Erstens sei „niemandts vnbewist / was Luther vnd seine Schüler für geschliffne Zungen gehabt“.15 Sie wüssten wohl, dass man „die Sach vnnd den Gebrauch von dem Mißbrauch / vnd den Mißbrauch von dem rechten Brauch weit absonderen vnd vnderscheiden solle“.16 Würden sie das doch zugeben, hätte es plötzlich keinen Sinn mehr, sich gegen Prozessionen „zu tod [zu] schreyen“.17 Die anderen beiden Gegenargumente Gretsers sind noch brisanter. Zunächst greift er seine Gegner an, indem er Luthers Hauptargument umkehrt und in zugespitzter Form gegen jene selbst richtet: Ich kan nicht glauben / noch mich dessen bereden lassen / daß jemaln in den Processionen ein solches Gesäuff / Schlemmerey noch Schwelgerey / angestellt noch erhört worden / als auff den Lutherischen Jarmerckten / Hochtzeiten / dörfft schier sagen Fasttägen / gesehen vn vermerckt wirdt. Wo bleibt da Luther vnnd seine Mitschreyer / daß sie nicht auch schreyen / schreiben vnnd treiben / man solle flugks abschaffen alle Messen / alle Märckt / alle Hochtzeiten / sampt alln järlichen Kirchtägen / welche noch heutigs tags bey jhnen an vilen Ortten / in der Kuchen vnd auff dem Tantzhauß / gantz inbrünstig vnd andächtig celebrirt vnnd gehalten werden / sonderlich an denen Ortten / da sie die eyngezognen Catholischen Kirchen besitzen / welche vor zeiten geweihet / jetzt aber von jhnen entweihet / nichts desto weniger aber noch den Namen der järlichen Gedächtnuß solcher Kirchweihung / weder löschen noch außtilgen können?18

Schließlich kehrt Gretser erneut zu seinem ersten Gegenargument zurück, um am Ende daraus einen beinahe handelspolitischen Aufruf abzuleiten: Wann nun Luther so vnsinnig ist / wie er dan in der Wahrheit ist / daß er vmb deß Mißbrauchs / vnd etlich vnzogner Menschen gottloser Sitten vnd Wandels willen / die heiligen Processionen vn Feyrtäg abthun will / vnd außmustern: Ey so schaffe er flugks auch den Wein vnnd das sächsische Bier ab / dessen Getrancks sich (daran niemandt zweiflen kann) vil mehr Leut mißbrauchen / als der Processionen vnnd Feyrtäg.19 14

Ibid., 80. Ibid., 80f. 16 Ibid., 81. 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid., 82f. 19 Ibid., 84. 15

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Wie gesagt, stellt Luthers Predigt für Gretser nur den Ausgangspunkt seiner polemischen Ausführungen dar. Mit der gleichen Schärfe moniert er dessen 1566 erschienene Tischrede „von Abgötterey“20 sowie Schriften anderer „schendtlichen Apostaten vn schebigen Predicanten“;21 in diesem Zuge erwähnt er ausdrücklich Rudolf Hospinian (1547–1626),22 Philipp Melanchthon (1497–1560), Paul Eber (1511–1569), Johann Forster (1496– 1558),23 Erasmus Sarcerius (1501–1559),24 Georg Coelestin (1525–1579)25 und Nicolaus von Amsdorf (1483–1565).26 Überdies werden fast alle von Gretser kritisierten Protestanten wiederholt mit etlichen, teilweise allegorischen Bildern belegt, Luther z.B. mit „der andächtig Fuchs / der fromb Wolff / und trewhertzig Apostata“,27 mit „der Hyperbolische Luther vn Bapstfeindt“28 oder schlicht mit „Betrieger“.29 Das achte Kapitel des Procession Buch endet schließlich mit einem entschlossenen, höchst demonstrativen Vorsatz: [W]ir [bleiben] in den vnbeweglichen vnd vnuerruckten Fußstapffen deß heiligen vn vnuersehrten Catholischen Glaubens vnserer lieben Vorfahren / […] vnnd lassen vns […] bey […] [den] heiligen Processionen finden so offt wir immer können […] / vnd solches jetzo vmb so vil mehr / weil wir hierdurch / wider alle Ketzer vnserer Religion offentliche Zeugknuß hören vnd sehen lassen […].30

Dieser letzte Satz Gretsers scheint nun gleich doppelt polemisch zu sein. Zum einen ist er Teil des Kapitels, das im Procession Buch bewusst als Polemik verfasst wurde. Doch darüber hinaus lässt sich nicht übersehen, dass hier auch seinem Sujet, den „heiligen Processionen“, eine zumindest implizit polemische Absicht zukommt: Eine Prozession aufzuführen und/oder daran teilzunehmen kann man, nochmals mit Gretsers Worten, als „offentliche Zeugknuß“ „wider alle Ketzer vnserer Religion“ deuten, d.h.: als universelles Kampfmittel gegen die Gegner der katholischen Kirche. 20

Cf. ibid., 90ff. Ibid., 98. 22 Cf. ibid., 80. 23 Cf. ibid,, 92f. 24 Cf. ibid., 94. 25 Cf. ibid., 94f. 26 Cf. ibid., 97. 27 Ibid., 80. 28 Ibid., 82. 29 Ibid., 86. 30 Ibid., 98 (Hervorhebung von mir). 21

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Es stellt sich nun die Frage, von welchem Zeitpunkt an man den Prozessionen das Prädikat gegenreformatorisch bzw. polemisch hinzufügen kann und darf. Versteht man den Prozess der Gegenreformation als durch das Konzil von Trient und durch die Implementierung seiner Reformdekrete bedingt, so lässt sich noch zur Mitte des 16. Jahrhunderts wohl nur schwer feststellen, ob die polemische Wirkung der Prozessionen von ihren jeweiligen Organisatoren und/oder Teilnehmern mitgedacht, ja sogar intendiert wird. Hinsichtlich der Prozession zu Mariä Himmelfahrt z.B., die 1554 in Wien von einer spanischen Bruderschaft und den Franziskanern organisiert wurde—und die daraufhin von Protestanten als „Affenspiel“ und „lose / nichtige menschen sündlein“31 geschmäht wurde—, neigt man dazu, diese Frage zu bejahen. Die meisten Spanier, die die Prozession organisierten und/oder daran teilnahmen, waren die sogenannten „Hof“Spanier, d.h.: sie lebten am Hof des Kaisers Ferdinands I. (1503–1564). Zu jener Zeit wirkte dort als Kaplan Jaime Gilberto de Nogueras (gest. 1566), ein wichtiger spanischer Theologe, der sich energisch für die Gegenreformation einsetzte32 und später, in den Jahren 1562 und 1563, am Tridentinum teilnahm.33 Doch generell kann man von gegenreformatorischen bzw. polemischen Prozessionen wohl erst ab 1564 reden, nachdem die Konzilsdekrete vom Papst bestätigt wurden, und erst recht um die Wende zum 17. Jahrhundert, als die Dekrete zum großen Teil durchgeführt wurden.34 Zu diesem Zeitpunkt haben sich auch die Jesuiten und die Kapuziner, die „in unermüdlichem Dienst den tridentinischen Geist über Europa verbreiteten“,35 bereits etabliert. Nun waren es gerade diese beiden Orden, die Ende des 16. Jahrhunderts im Rahmen ihrer seelsorgerischen Tätigkeiten begannen, mit einer ungewöhnlich großen Intensität Prozessionen 31

Matthias Flacius, Ein Procession / so die Hispanier am tage Mariae scheidung / welcher ist gewest der 15. Augusti / Anno 1554. zu Wien bey den Barfusern München gehalten haben / Darumb gedruckt / das alle Christliche hertzen deste klerer Bebstliche Abgötterey in diesem heidnischen Spectakel erkennen / Vnd dagegen Christliche lere suchen vnd annemen (o.O.: o.Verl., 1554), ohne Seitenzahlen. 32 Cf. Christopher F. Laferl, Die Kultur der Spanier in Österreich unter Ferdinand I. 1522–1564 (Wien: Böhlau, 1997), 117, 130. 33 Cf. Herman H. Schwedt, “Konsultor und Gefangener der römischen Inquisition. Bischof Jacobus Nogueras (†1566),” in Kirchengeschichte. Alte und neue Wege. Festschrift für Christoph Weber, vol. 1, eds. Gisela Fleckenstein, Michael Klöcker, and Norbert Schloßmacher (Frankfurt a.M.: Lang, 2008), 202-205. 34 Cf. Hubert Jedin, “Das Papsttum und die Durchführung des Tridentinums (15651605),” in Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte, vol. 4, eds. Josef Glazik, Erwin Iserloh, and Hubert Jedin (Basel: Herder, 1975), 521-560. 35 Heinz Schilling, Aufbruch und Krise. Deutschland 1517–1648 (Berlin: Siedler, 1988), 270.

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durchzuführen. Dabei kam den Karfreitagsprozessionen bzw. den Passionsprozessionsspielen eine besonders hohe Bedeutung zu. Gretser berichtet etwa von einer Prozession, die am Karfreitag 1605 in Augsburg von den Jesuiten, genauer: von der dortigen Marianischen Kongregation aufgeführt wurde. Dabei beruft er sich auf einen anonymen Zeugen, der „selber mit vnnd beywesendt / alles mit Augen gesehen hat / vnd also daruon redt“.36 Bei Nacht, im Schein der Fackeln und Windlichter, wurden sieben „Figuren“, d.h. sieben Szenen aus der Passionsgeschichte dargeboten: Gethsemane („wie er [Jesus] am Oelberg blutigen Schweiß geschwitzt“), Geißelung („wie er [Jesus] an der Saulen angebunden gestanden / vnd von starcken Kriegßknechten / so vmb vnd nebengestanden / gegeißlet worden“), Krönung („wie er [Jesus] von den Kriegßknechten mit Verhönung vn Gespött / gantz grausam gekrönt worden / gleichsam lebendig für Augen gestellt“), Pilatus („Pilatus / welcher Christum dem Volck in so kläglicher gestallt zu besehen / fürgestellt“),37 Kreuztragung („wie er [Jesus] das Creutz getragen / vertretten hat / von dem Hauptmann […] / sampt seinem vndergebnen Hauffen vnd Trabanten / beglaitet / allda die Mutter vnnd Jungkfraw MARIA sampt Joanne / Christo […] nachgefolget“),38 Kreuzabnahme („wie die gebenedeyte Jungkfraw den abgenomnen vnd todten Leib jhres Sohns auff der Schoß helt“) und Grablegung („die Leich vnd Begrebnuß deß Herrens“).39 Während die meisten „Figuren“ wohl durch Skulpturen dargestellt wurden, die man auf Traggestellen umhertrug, war Jesus bei der Kreuztragungsszene „kein gemachtes Bildt“, sondern er wurde von einem „lebendige[n][] Mann […] vertreten“, vom Hauptmann „zu Roß“40 begleitet und von Maria und Johannes „auff dem Fuß“41 gefolgt. Vor sowie nach den „Figuren“ wurden mehrmals gruppenweise Engelknaben, Geißler, Kreuzschleifer bzw. -zieher und die Ausgespannten angeordnet. Außerdem waren die Sodalen, Mitglieder der Bruderschaft Corporis Christi, Vertreter der geistlichen und der weltlichen Obrigkeit sowie viele andere Bürger Teil der Prozession. Am Ende des von Gretser zitierten Berichts wird interessanterweise auch die unmittelbare Wirkung der Prozession auf die Zuschauer geschildert. Die protestantischen Reaktionen werden dabei ausdrücklich vermerkt:

36

Gretser, Procession Buch, 211. Zitiert in Gretser, Procession Buch, 212. 38 Zitiert ibid., 212f. 39 Zitiert ibid., 213. 40 Zitiert ibid., 212. 41 Zitiert ibid., 213. 37

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Da war jederman vberal gantz rühwig vnd still / vil / auch auß den Ketzern liessen sich trawrig sehen / eintweders darumben / daß sie etlicher massen auß Andacht also bewegt: oder aber / daß sie ab disem Spectackel anderst nicht / als wie die bösen Geister / sich entsetzt vnnd erschrocken seyndt.42

Die von Gretser beschriebene Prozession war allerdings nicht die erste gegenreformatorische Karfreitagsprozession, die in Augsburg stattfand. Im dritten, von mehreren Autoren verfassten und 1676 erschienenen Band des Werks Seraphischer Paradeyß-Garten ist zu lesen, dass dort eine solche Prozession bereits vier Jahre zuvor, im Jahre 1601, von den Kapuzinern durchgeführt wurde. Wie diese genau aussah, lässt sich der dort formulierten kurzen Beschreibung leider nicht entnehmen. Die Absicht, die dahinter steckte, wird jedoch klar. Die Prozession sollte ein „Zug“—gemeint ist ein Feldzug—„wider den Vnglauben“ sein, bei dem man keine andere Waffen brauchen lassen [hat] / als die des bittern Leydens und Sterbens Jesu Christi / dessen Geheimnüssen öffentlich vorgestelt wurden / vnd alsdann die geistliche Knecht mit Kreutz und Geisseln gewaffnet / in keinen andern Feind schlugen / als auff ihre eigene Leiber / selbige in die Dienstbarkeit des Geists zu bringen.43

Mehr noch: Gewißlich war auff diese Weiß der irrigen Lehr des fleischlichen Lutheri den Krieg ankünden / als welcher mit seinem irrigen Glauben allein vergnüget / dem Fleisch Zügel und Zaum zulassen / wider die klare Lehr des heiligen Evangelij vnd heiliger Schrifft.44

42

Zitiert ibid., 214. Die Augsburger Prozession gab immerhin Anlass auch für eine Polemik im engsten Sinne. Zur Frage der Selbstgeißelung haben als deren Befürworter vor allem Gretser und sein Ordenskollege Conrad Vetter (1548-1622) Partei ergriffen. Die protestantische Seite hingegen wurde in diesem Disput vor allem von Melchior Voltz (1562–1625), dem Pfarrer in Augsburg, Jakob Heilbrunner (1548– 1618) und Georg Zeaemann (1580–1638) vertreten. Cf. Niklaus Largier, Lob der Peitsche. Eine Kulturgeschichte der Erregung (München: Beck, 2001), 147f., 149f. 43 Massæus Ananiensis, Seraphischer Paradeyß-Garten / Oder Lebens-Beschreibungen derer in Tugenden vnd Wunderwercken vortrefflicher Männer deß Ordens der Mindern Brüder die Capucciner genant, vol. 3 (Salzburg: Mayr, 1676), 289. 44 Ibid.

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Im Laufe des 17. Jahrhunderts erreichten die Kapuziner durch ihre gezielte, ja „fulminante [...] Expansionsbewegung“45 vor allem in West- und Mitteleuropa46 beinahe den „Rang eines ‚Modeordens‘ der Barockzeit“.47 Einer ihrer weiteren Missionswege lässt sich von Innsbruck über Prag, Wien und Graz nach Ljubljana verfolgen. Dort begannen sie vielleicht schon 1608, spätestens jedoch 1617 Karfreitagsprozessionen bzw. Passionsprozessionsspiele aufzuführen.48 Von den Prozessionen der Jahre 1701, 1708 und 1713 sind jeweils ihre Periochen erhalten, wobei die aus dem Jahr 1708 einen ausgesprochen gegenreformatorischen Titel und Untertitel trägt: Certa Mina Dant VICtorIas Das ist: Streitt bringt Freudt.49 Dem muss jedoch hinzugefügt werden, dass sich der gegenreformatorische Prozess im 18. Jahrhundert längst nicht mehr gegen die Protestanten richtet, sondern er setzt vielmehr auf die Verbreitung, Stärkung und Konsolidierung einer erneuerten, wiederaufgerichteten katholischen Kirche.

45

Matthias Ilg, “Die Kapuziner,” in Orden und Klöster im Zeitalter von Reformation und katholischer Reform. 1500–1700, vol. 3, eds. Friedhelm Jürgensmeier, Regina Elisabeth Schwerdtfeger (Münster: Aschendorff, 2007), 227. 46 Zwischen 1600 und 1700 wurden nur im deutschsprachigen Raum des Heiligen Römischen Reichs 284 kapuzinische Niederlassungen gegründet (cf. Ilg, “Die Kapuziner,” 215). 47 Ilg, “Die Kapuziner,” 228. 48 Cf. Metod Benedik, “Izhodišþa Škofjeloškega pasijona,” in Katalog Potujoþe razstave Škofjeloški pasijon (Škofja Loka: Muzejsko društvo Škofja Loka, 2006), 30f. In Die Ehre Deß Hetzogthums Crain beschreibt der zeitgenössische Historiker Janez Vajkard Valvasor (1641–1693) die Karfreitagsprozessionen von Ljubljana: „Diesen Umgang anzusehen / sammeln sich etliche Meilen von der Stadt entfernte Leute / und geben alle Fremde / demselben das Lob / daß sie fast an keinem Ort eine so schöne / andächtige und lange Procession gesehn. Dieser Umgang geschicht bey der Nacht / mit unzehlichen Wind-Lichtern und Fackeln / und wird das gantze Leyden Christi dabey vorstellig gemacht / nebst verschiedenen Geschichten sowol aus dem Alten als Neuen Testament. Welches Alles / theils getragen theils geführt / theils aber gehend zu Fuß oder reitend zu Pferde / denen andächtigen Zuschauern gezeigt wird. Bey diesem Umgange finden sich auch viel Disciplinanten / oder Flagellanten / so sich selbsten geisseln; auch viele / welche grosse Kreutze nachziehen; viel Eremiten / und dergleichen.“ Johann Weikhard von Valvasor, Die Ehre Deß Hertzogthums Crain: Das ist / Wahre / gründliche / und recht eigendliche Belegen- und Beschaffenheit dieses / in manchen alten und neuen Geschicht-Büchern zwar rühmlich berührten / doch bishero nie annoch recht beschriebenen Römisch-Keyserlichen herrlichen Erblandes, vol. 3 (Laybach: Endter, 1689), 695. 49 Cf. Certa Mina Dant VICtorIas Das ist: Streitt bringt Freudt (Laybach: Mayr, 1708).

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Nun wurden seit Anfang des 18. Jahrhunderts, spätestens jedoch seit 171350 auch in Škofja Loka, einer Stadt in der Nähe von Ljubljana, Karfreitagsprozessionen bzw. Passionsprozessionsspiele durch die Kapuziner regelmäßig aufgeführt. Von dieser Tradition sind nicht nur Periochen oder, wie oft bei Karfreitagsprozessionen, Prozessionsordnungen erhalten geblieben, sondern es liegt stattdessen—erstaunlicherweise—ein ganzer Codex vor, der unter anderem einen kompletten, 841 Verse langen Dramentext samt Regieanweisungen enthält. Dieser Text, der in den Jahren 1725–1727 entstand51 und von P. Romuald von Štandrež (1676–1748) verfasst wurde, wird Škofjeloški pasijon (dt.: Die Passion von Škofja Loka) genannt.52 Wirft man einen kurzen Blick darauf, so fällt von den 13 „Figuren“, die ihn ausmachen, die zehnte Figur sofort auf. In dieser, mit Christus in Cruce betitelten Szene erscheinen vor dem gekreuzigten Jesus u.a. vier weibliche Allegorien—die vier damals bekannten Kontinente der Erde. Als zweite meldet sich etwa America zu Wort: Tebe iest morem hualo date, de si ti mene dau Sposnate, katera ie ta praua uerra, katera to nebu odperra […].53 Wörtlich übersetzt: Dich [Jesus] muss ich loben, denn Du hast mich erkennen lassen, welcher der wahre Glauben ist, welcher den Himmel eröffnet.

Dem folgt Asia, die in ihrer kurzen Rede berichtet: […] ti se mene vto barko usheu, te praue kersanskhe uere […].54 50 Cf. Metod Benedik, “Škofjeloški pasijon. 1713–1715–1721–1999–2000,” in Liturgia theologia prima. Zbornik ob 80-letnici profesorja Marijana Smolika (Ljubljana: Celjska Mohorjeva družba, 2008), 420; Matija Ogrin, “Tradicija in datacija Škofjeloškega pasijona. Ekdotiþna perspektiva,” in oþe Romuald, Škofjeloški pasijon (Celje: Celjska Mohorjeva družba, 2009), 351. 51 Cf. Ogrin, “Tradicija in datacija Škofjeloškega pasijona,” 343-365. 52 Der Text selbst ist nicht betitelt. Auf einem später beigefügten, heute jedoch verlorenen Zettel stand einmal: „Instructio pro Processione Locopolitana in die Parasceve Dni. (3. Die Martii 1721.)“ (cf. Ogrin, “Tradicija in datacija Škofjeloškega pasijona,” 327). 53 Romuald, Škofjeloški pasijon, 106 (Hervorhebung von mir). 54 Ibid., 109 (Hervorhebung von mir).

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Wörtlich übersetzt: […] Du hast mich auf das Schiff genommen, [aufs Schiff] des wahren christlichen Glaubens […].

Zuletzt tritt Affrica auf: […] Sdei iest padem predte dolle, zhella Affrica Smano stri, Sa to milost se Sahualle, Kershansko uerro pozhesti.55 Wörtlich übersetzt: Nun falle ich vor Dir nieder, das ganze Afrika tut so mit mir, es bedankt sich für diese Gnade, es beehrt den christlichen Glauben.

Sollten bis dahin doch noch Zweifel darüber bestehen, worauf sich „ta praua uerra“ (dt.: „der wahre Glauben“), dieser eminent gegenreformatorische Begriff,56 bezieht, so wird die Perioche für die Prozession aus dem Jahr 1727 diese endgültig ausräumen: […] Ja Standthaffte Liebe Jesu, du hast überwunden deinem feündt die Sündt damahl zum höchsten, wie du den lezten spies-stoß empfangen: Aber nicht allein du, sondern auch mit dir alle thaill der Welt Europa, Asia, Affrica, vnd America, die in dem wahrn Cathollische Glauben, in Steiffern Hoffnung vnd Eyfer liebe versamblet, dich vor ihren hörführer betrachten, die bestendig anhangen in der gefarlichen schiff fart der Welt.57

Doch spielt in unserem Zusammenhang das Aufführungs- bzw. Inszenierungsmoment von Škofjeloški pasijon eine noch größere Rolle. Wie erwähnt, besteht der Text aus insgesamt 13 „Figuren“. Zu diesen Szenen, die entweder auf Traggestellen, auf Wagen, zu Fuß oder zu Pferde aufgeführt wurden, zählen: Paradisus, Mors, Cæna Domini, eine „Figur“ mit Sam55

Ibid. (Hervorhebung von mir). In Robert Bellarmins Deutung der Kirche z.B. steht ausdrücklich: „Nostra autem sententia est, Ecclesiam unam tantum esse, non duas, et illam unam et veram esse coetum hominum ejusdem christianae fidei professione, et eorundem sacramentorum communione colligatum, sub regimine legitimorum pastorum, ac praecipue unius Christi in terris vicarii romani pontificis.“ [Robertus Bellarminus, Disputationes de Controversiis Christianae Fidei adversus hujus temporis hereticos, vol. 2 (Neapoli/Napoli: Giuliano, 1857), 75 (Hervorhebung von mir)]. 57 Romuald, Škofjeloški pasijon, 148 (Hervorhebung von mir). 56

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son, Sudor Sanguineus, Flagelatio Christi, Coronatio, eine Szene mit Hieronymus, Ecce Homo, Christus in Cruce, Mater Septem Dolorum, Archa Fædersi und Sepulchrum Domini. Es lässt sich aus dem Text nicht entnehmen, wie viele Personen bei der Aufführung von Škofjeloški pasijon mitgewirkt haben könnten.58 Eine konservative Schätzung rechnet mit ca. 300 Personen, doch das Doppelte dürfte dem realen Umfang genauso gut entsprechen.59 Um einen tieferen Einblick in die (zumindest erstrebte) Produktionsdimension von Škofjeloški pasijon—und generell von Karfreitagsprozessionen in Škofja Loka—zu bekommen, bietet es sich an, zwei weitere Dokumente aus dem Codex heranzuziehen. Es handelt sich zum einen um den Brief eines Leiters der Prozession aus dem Jahr 1713,60 zum anderen um eine Liste mit aufgezählten „Figuren“. Aus beiden Dokumenten geht hervor, dass die Herstellung der meisten Szenen ebenso wie ihre Aufführung nicht der Bürgerschaft von Škofja Loka, sondern den herumliegenden Dörfern anvertraut wurde. So sollten im Jahr 1713, als für die Prozession 15 „Figuren“ vorgesehen waren, mindestens zwölf von nicht weniger als einundzwanzig Dörfern durchgeführt werden.61 Und auf der Liste sind 16 Szenen vermerkt, von welchen mindestens 13 von nicht weniger als vierundzwanzig Dörfern aufgeführt werden sollten.62 Ein solches Mitwirken der Bauernschaft darf auch im Falle anderer Karfreitagsprozessionen von Škofja Loka vermutet werden. Wenn man darüber hinaus bedenkt, dass bei dem von P. Romuald geleiteten Škofjeloški pasijon insgesamt sechs Zünfte, vierzehn der angesehensten („welche allezeit gewessen Seyn […] auß der Gmain“)63 Bürger, sechs auserwählte Stadträte, die gesamte geistliche Obrigkeit und schließlich „daß Volkh“64 mitgehen sollten, so wird das große sozialpolitische Potenzial dieser Prozessionen erkennbar. Als breite und trotzdem verbundene, „geschlossene Massen“65 müssen sie ohnehin—nach innen wie nach außen—ein starkes Wir-Gefühl, ein „So-ist-es-und-nicht-anders“-Gefühl66 verbreitet haben. 58

Als Mitwirkende sind hier lediglich Teilnehmer gemeint, die bei der Aufführung von Škofjeloški pasijon in der Prozession mitgehen sollten. 59 Mangels Bevölkerungsstatistiken für die erste Hälfte des 18. Jahrhunderts lassen sich diese Zahlen nur schwer interpretieren. 60 Monika Deželak Trojar, “Listi ob kodeksu Škofjeloškega pasijona,” in Romuald, Škofjeloški pasijon, 372-375. 61 Cf. Romuald, Škofjeloški pasijon, 270. 62 Cf. ibid., 273. 63 Cf. ibid., 118. 64 Ibid. 65 Elias Canetti, Masse und Macht (Hildesheim: Claassen, 1992), 12ff. 66 Cf. Thomas Kirchner, Raumerfahrung im geistlichen Spiel des Mittelalters (Frankfurt a. M.: Lang, 1985), 28.

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Wenn obendrein auch noch alle sozialen Schichten an dieser Machtdemonstration teilnahmen, musste sie eine ganz besondere, ungeheuere, ja fast unhinterfragte Legitimität genießen.

Dieser Beitrag wurde gefördert durch das European Research Council (ERC) im Rahmen des Projekts DramaNet: Early Modern European Drama and the Cultural Net an der Freien Universität Berlin.

CONTRIBUTORS

Ágnes Baricz is an assistant lecturer at Sapientia University in Cluj-Napoca, Romania. Her research focuses on early modern Hungarian and Transylvanian religious literature, especially on religious conversion and narratives of conversion. She is a PhD candidate at the University of Debrecen, Hungary. Jaša Drnovšek is a postdoctoral fellow at Freie Universität in Berlin and his work focuses on processions and processional plays in early modern Europe. Erika Garadnai, PhD (2015), University of Miskolc, works at the National Széchényi Library in Budapest. Her research concentrates on the polemics of Upper Hungary (Hungaria Superior). She also has a general interest in seventeenth-century religious literature, in polemics, and in the Catholic renewal, with a special focus on the activities of Jesuit missionaries. JiĜí M. Havlík, PhD (2008), Charles University in Prague, has been teaching at Gymnázium prof. Jana Patoþky in Prague since 2003. He also lectured on early modern literature at the Josef Škvorecký Academy of Literature. Focused on the history of early modern church and literature, his research has been carried out as part of projects conducted by the Institute for the History of Charles University, the Institute of History of the Czech Academy of Sciences, and the University of Pardubice. His interests include exploring the activities of religious brothers in times of pestilence in the early modern period and the church politics of Jan Fridrich z Valdštejna, who was the archbishop of Prague between 1675 and 1695. Dr Havlík is currently working on a monograph devoted to this archbishop. He has published, together with OndĜej Koupil, a popular commented edition of the St Wenceslas Bible (Svatováclavská bible: nedČlní a sváteþní þtení). Ádám Hegyi is a senior assistant professor in the Department of Cultural Heritage Studies and Library and Information Science at the University of Szeged. He has specialized in eighteenth-century cultural and ecclesiastical history, particularly in the history of reading, the history of universities, and the history of the Hungarian Reformed Church. He was awarded his PhD summa cum laude in 2010 for his dissertation on the role of the University of Basel in shaping the reading literacy of the Reformed colleges of Debre-

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Contributors

cen and Sárospatak between 1715 and 1785. He is currently the lead researcher of a project devoted to exploring the dissemination of ecclesiastical apologetic and anti-clerical printed material in the Reformed Diocese of Békés between 1781 and 1821. He has published his research in several academic journals including Zwingliana and Philosophy Study. He has recently written a book in which he analyzes the historical sources pertaining to the relations between the Colleges of Debrecen and Sárospatak and the University of Basel in the eighteenth century (A Kárpát-medencébĘl a Rajna partjára, 2015). Hans Helander, PhD in Latin (1977), Uppsala University, is Professor Emeritus of Latin. In his doctoral thesis and in subsequent studies he has treated the role of abstract nouns in ancient Latin. He has also published editions of three early works of Emanuel Swedenborg, with translations and commentary. Among his other contributions to the field of Neo-Latin studies may be mentioned his discussion of aims and methods in this area of research (NeoLatin Studies: Significance and Prospects, Symbolae Osloenses 2001) and also his comprehensive study of Neo-Latin literature in Sweden (Neo-Latin Literature in Sweden in the Period 1620–1720: Stylistics, Vocabulary and Characteristic Ideas, 2004). He was the organizer of the Fourteenth International Congress of Neo-Latin Studies held in Uppsala in 2009. Ladislav Kaþic is a senior research fellow at the Ján Stanislav Institute of Slavonic Studies of the Slovak Academy of Sciences in Bratislava and his research concentrates on the history of music in Slovakia and Central Europe in the baroque period, with a particular focus on the contribution of religious orders—the Jesuits, Franciscans, and Piarists—to the musical culture of the period. He also teaches history of music at the Academy of Performing Arts in Bratislava. His publications include a monograph on the history of baroque music (Dejiny hudby III: Barok, 2008). Iva Manova is a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Padua, Italy. She has published essays on the history of Renaissance philosophy, on early modern interconfessional polemics, and the history of philosophical historiography. She is the author of a monograph, in Bulgarian, on Renaissance philosophy (Sofia 2011), one of the editors of a collection of scholarly essays on the history of philosophical historiography (Padua 2014), and an assistant co-editor of Models of the History of Philosophy, vol. 3: The Later Enlightenment and the Age of Kant (Springer, 2015).

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Zsombor Martis is a PhD candidate at the University of Miskolc, Hungary. His research interests include exploring the relations between church and society in the early modern period and studying the aspects of multiconfessionalism in seventeenth-century literature written in Hungarian. The topic of his doctoral dissertation is the life and works of István Czeglédi (1619–1671), one of the most prominent figures in the history of the Reformed Church of the Hungarian Kingdom. Maja Matasoviü is the head of the Department for the Historiography of Croatian Latinity at the Croatian Institute of History in Zagreb. She also teaches various courses on ancient Greek and Latin literature and civilization in the Centre for Croatian Studies of the University of Zagreb. She received her PhD in Latin linguistics at the Faculty of Humanities and Social Studies in Zagreb. Her interests include, among others, exploring the relationship between the Catholic Church, the state, and the people in Croatia, as well as the history of Latin literature in Croatia. Her publications include: Zapisnik Franjevaþkog samostana u Našicama I, II (1739–1787/1788–1820) [The Diary of the Našice Franciscan Monastery], ed. Š. Demo, M. Gregl, M. Matasoviü Rupnik, T. Tvrtkoviü, and M. Vrbanus (Našice–Slavonski Brod– Zagreb, 2010/2012), and “Chronology and Semantics of the Earliest Latin Loanwords in Croatian,” in Latin vulgaire-latin tardif X: Actes du Xe colloque international sur le latin vulgaire et tardif (Bergamo, 5-9 septembre 2012), Tome II, (Bergamo, 2014). Tomislav Matiü is a teaching assistant at the Catholic University of Croatia in Zagreb. He received his master’s degrees in history and philosophy from the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences of the University of Zagreb in 2009. He is currently working on his doctoral thesis, entitled “John Vitez of Sredna: A Fifteenth-Century Prelate and Humanist,” at the same institution. He also spent study or research stays at Università Ca’ Foscari in Venice (in 2010/11) and Pázmány Péter Katolikus Egyetem in Budapest (in 2014/15). He has published several articles on medieval military orders, late medieval architecture, and Renaissance humanism. Most recently he has participated, as a consultant, in the project “Jagiellonians: Dynasty, Memory and Identity in Central Europe” conducted at the University of Oxford. Zoya Metlitskaya is an assistant professor at Lomonosov Moscow State University where she teaches Anglo-Saxon History, History of the English Church, History of the Western Church, and History of Western Theology. She is also a guest lecturer at Pozharskij Open University, Moscow.

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Contributors

Lucy Rachel Nicholas teaches Classics and Early Modern History at King’s College London. She is interested in projects which bridge the fields of NeoLatin and Early Modern Renaissance and Reformation History. Her doctoral thesis entailed a translation and contextual analysis of a Latin treatise on the Eucharist by the English humanist and Cambridge classical scholar, Roger Ascham. Aspects of this have been published as “Roger Ascham’s Defence of the Lord’s Supper,” Reformation 20 (May, 2015) and “Sin and Salvation in Roger Ascham’s Apologia pro Caena Dominica” in Jonathan Willis ed., Sin and Salvation in Reformation England. Her full PhD will be published in 2016 by Ashgate in two monographs. The Latin works of the Strasbourg humanist and Protestant, Johannes Sturm, represent the focus of her current research. David A. Porter completed his PhD at the University of Cambridge and his research interests are in Neo-Latin literature and early modern history. He is the author of the articles on Neo-Latin prose satire, Neo-Latin letters-inverse, the poetics of Scaliger, Vida, Pontanus, and Vossius, and the NeoLatin literature of the British Isles in Brill’s Encyclopaedia of the Neo-Latin World (2014). Jonathan Reimer is a PhD student at the University of Cambridge, where he is writing a dissertation on the life and writings of the Tudor clergyman and bestselling devotional author Thomas Becon (ca. 1512–1567). He has forthcoming publications in Reformation and the Journal of Ecclesiastical History. He has previously published on Augustine of Hippo in Augustiniana. In 2015 he was awarded the Archbishop Cranmer Prize by the Cambridge History Faculty. Andrea Riedl is a PhD candidate and teaching assistant in the Department for Theology and History of the Oriental Churches at the University of Vienna. Her research is focused on relations between the Western and Eastern churches in the Middle Ages. She has published articles in several academic journals including Archa Verbi, Ostkirchliche Studien, and Annuarium Historiae Conciliorum (forthcoming). She was a co-organizer, together with Professor Thomas Prügl, of an international research colloquium entitled “Confronting the Christian ‘Other’: East-West Relations in the Middle Ages” and held in Vienna in March 2014. Lyudmyla Shevchenko-Savchyns’ka is an assistant professor at Kyiv Medical University UAFM in Kyiv, Ukraine. Her research focuses on the Neo-Latin literature of Ukraine. She has published extensively on this sub-

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ject; particularly worth mentioning are her two books Ancient Literature: Breaking Down Stereotypes (2012, co-authored with Kostyantyn Balashov) and Ʌɚɬɢɧɨɦɨɜɧɚ ɭɤɪɚʀɧɫɶɤɚ ɥɿɬɟɪɚɬɭɪɚ: Ɂɚɝɚɥɶɧɢɣ ɨɝɥɹɞ (Latin Literature in Ukraine: An Overview, 2013). She is the co-founder and coordinator of the research project “Neo-Latin Literature in Ukraine” (project website: medievist.org.ua). Marie Škarpová is a senior lecturer at the Faculty of Arts of Charles University in Prague and at the Faculty of Arts of the University of South Bohemia in ýeské BudČjovice (Budweis). Her work focuses especially on late medieval and early modern Czech hymnography and the history of Czech hymn-books. She has published a monograph on one of the most extensive Czech hymnals ever compiled, the Kancionál þeský („Mezi ýechy, k pobožnému zpívání náchylnými“. ŠteyerĤv Kancionál þeský, kanonizace hymnografické pamČti a utváĜení katolické identity [“Among Czechs Who Have an Inclination for Pious Chanting”: Šteyer’s Czech Hymnal—Establishing the Canon of Hymnography and Shaping the Catholic Identity], 2015). She has also prepared a critical edition of a Czech baroque collection of Advent and Christmas hymns entitled Jesliþky staré nové písniþky [The Crib: Old New Hymns] (2012, co-authored with Pavel Kosek and Tomáš Slavický). Zsombor Tóth is a literary historian and a senior fellow at the Institute for Literary Studies of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. His main research interest is focused on the reception of English Puritanism in Eastern Europe during the early modern era. His publications, both in English and Hungarian, deal predominantly with the cultural and historical phenomena related to this multifaceted transfer of Puritan thoughts, texts, and conduct patterns. (For instance, “The Importance of Being (In)Tolerant, the Strange Case of Transylvanian Puritanism” in Reformed Majorities in Early Modern Europe, ed. Herman Selderhuis, J. Marius J. Lange van Ravenswaay, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht: Göttingen 2015). He has also published a monograph (2007) examining the life and oeuvre of Count Miklós Bethlen (1642–1716), a renowned statesman and gifted Puritan author (A koronatanú: Bethlen Miklós [The Memoirs of Count Miklós Bethlen and the Seventeenth Century Hungarian and English Puritanism], Debrecen: Kossuth Lajos University Press, 2007). Miroslav Varšo is a research fellow at the Institute of Theatre and Film Research of the Slovak Academy of Sciences in Bratislava. His interests include exploring baroque theatre in Slovakia, especially the drama of the

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Contributors

Jesuit and Piarist orders and the school plays of the Protestants. In his research he also pays attention to Latin and vernacular (German and Slovak) literature of Slovak provenance closely related to this area of interest. In addition, he has been engaged in Old Testament research, with a particular focus on the Minor Prophets. Svorad Zavarský is a senior research fellow at the Ján Stanislav Institute of Slavonic Studies of the Slovak Academy of Sciences in Bratislava, Slovakia. He received his PhD degree from Comenius University in 2010 after completing his thesis on the Latin works of polemical theology written by Martinus Szent-Ivany SJ (1633–1705). His research interests lie in the broad area of the Neo-Latin literature and language of Slovakia, with a special focus on the works of the mentioned Jesuit author, Martinus Szent-Ivany. He received the Michael Williams Award from the Catholic Record Society in 2014 for his research into the British reception of Szent-Ivany’s polemical apologetical tract Quinquaginta Rationes (Fifty Reasons). His most recent publications include “The Cosmology of Martinus Szent-Ivany” in Knowing Nature in Early Modern Europe, ed. David Beck (2015), and “Quinquaginta Rationes–Fifty Reasons: From an Opusculum Polemicum Tyrnaviense to a Standard Catholic Book in America” in Acta Conventus Neo-Latini Monasteriensis (2015). Vratislav Zervan is a postdoctoral research fellow at the Austrian Academy of Sciences (Institute for Medieval Research, Division of Byzantine Research) in Vienna. He collaborated in the works on the Lexikon zur byzantinischen Gräzität, particularly on Volume VI entitled Das Register des Patriarchates von Konstantinopel (in print), and he is currently preparing an edition of the Historia Ecclesiastica of Nikephoros Kallistos Xanthopoulos (vol. XIII–XVIII). Martin Žemla is a research fellow at the Centre for Renaissance Texts at Palacký University in Olomouc, Czech Republic. His scholarly interests concentrate on philosophy and religion in the thirteenth to seventeenth centuries, with special regard to German mysticism, Renaissance Neoplatonism, and Paracelsianism. He is continuously engaged in translating medieval and early modern texts pertaining to this field of interest. He is also editor-in-chief of book series in philosophy at Vyšehrad Publishers in Prague.

INDEX OF NAMES

Abel (son of Adam) 97 Abgar (king of Edessa) 210 Abrek, Andreas 28 Achilles Clavigerus. See Sten, Simon Adam 60, 117–24, 223, 296, 302, 305 Aeneas 4 Agallianos, Théodore 140 Albert II (king of Germany) 266 Alciato, Andrea 292 Alegambe, Philipp, SJ 323 Aleman, Louis (cardinal) 264, 268 Alexander of Masovia (cardinal) 268 Alfonso V (king of Aragon) 269 Alvinczi, Péter 56 Amadeo VIII (duke of Savoy) 265, 266, 269 Ambrose, Saint 203 Amsdorf, Nicolaus von 325 Anderson, Benedict 180 Andreae, Jakob 94–97 Andreae, Johann Valentin 225 Anne of Cleves 19 Anne, Saint (patron of miners) 50 Annius of Viterbo 4 Anselm of Canterbury 24 Antonovych, Vladymyr 32, 41 Apafi, Michael. See Michael I Apafi Aquinas. See Thomas Aquinas Archangel Gabriel. See Gabriel, Archangel Aristophanes 77 Aristotle 52, 152 Arius 9 Arndt, Johannes 225, 227 Arnold, Gottfried 227, 228 Ascenas (son of Gomer) 4

Ascham, Roger 67, 69–83 Athanasius, Saint 210 Augustine of Canterbury 71 Augustine of Hippo, Saint 120, 203, 219 Augustine of Dacia, OP 299 Avvakumov, Georgij 139, 141 Babiü, Toma 159 Badriü, Stjepan 159 Bailey, D. S. 17 Bakhtin, Mykhaylo 31 Balázs, László 233 Balbín, Bohuslav, SJ 202 Banga, Pál 241 Bardisanus (heretic) 279 Barner, Joannes, SJ 199–201, 204, 209 Barnes, Robert 15-16 Baronius, Caesar 202, 204 Batthyány, Adam (count) 256 Beatrix. See Karantsi, Borbála Becanus, Martinus, SJ xiii, xxiii, 201 Beck, Hans-Georg 138 Becon, Thomas 15–25, 72, 76 Bede the Venerable 120 Bekkos, John. See John XI Bekkos Bellarmine, Robert xiii, xiv, xix, 55, 91, 152, 161–72, 174, 175, 201, 204, 323, 331 Benedict, Saint 72 Beneša, Damjan 100, 103 Berig (king of the Goths) 7, 8 Berlaymont, Philippe de 284 Bernard of Clairvaux 203, 294–96 Berossus (Babylonian historian) 4 Berzeviczi, Joannes, SJ 258, 259, 262

342

Index of Names

Biondo, Flavio 8 Bitskey, István 63 Blanchet, Marie-Hélène 140 Bod, Péter 181 Bodin, Jean xvii Bodonyi, Sándor (bishop of Vác) 237 Boëthius 219, 220 Böhme, Jakob 225 Bonus, Jacobus. See Buniü, Jakov Borek, Piotr 31, 39, 40 Borosnyai , Sámuel 183–86 Bozhetsky, Joannes 28 Bradford, John 72 Brenz, Johannes 94–95 Breuner, Jan Josef (archbishop of Prague) 200 Bridelius, Fridrich, SJ 282 Bruni, Leonardo 8 Brutus the Trojan 4 Buchanan, George 4, 89 Buniü, Jakov 99–116 Burchmore, Susan. See Oldrieve (Burchmore), Susan Burke, Peter 180 Bytomski, Joannes 28 Calvin, John xxii, 74, 78, 97, 205, 220 Canisius, Petrus, SJ 323 Carafa, Oliviero (cardinal) 105 Carvajal, Juan (cardinal) 273 Casimir IV (king of Poland) 270 Cassian, Saint John 299 Cassius, Bartholomaeus. See Kašiü, Bartol Cecil, Sir William (secretary of state) 17, 18 Ceres (goddess of agriculture) 106, 107 ýervenka z VČžĖova, Václav VojtČch 201 Cesarini, Guiliano (cardinal) 268 Charles V (emperor) 105 Charles VI (emperor) 153 Charles VII (king of France) 270

Charles XII (king of Sweden) 30 Chelþický, Petr 278 Chmelnicius. See Khmelnytsky, Bohdan Chrysostom, Saint John 201, 203, 279 Cicero, Marcus Tullius 75, 161, 265 Clavigerus. See Sten, Simon Clement VII (pope) 105, 106 Clement VIII (pope) 200 Coelestin, Georg 325 Collinson, Patrick 22 Comenius, Johannes 226 Condulmer, Gabriele. See Eugene IV Constantius, Georgius, SJ 198-99, 200, 204 Cook, Edmund 18 Coster, Francis xiii Cranmer, Thomas (archbishop of Canterbury) 18–20 Croll, Oswald 225 Cusani, Agostino 147 Cusanus, Nicolaus 219 Cyprian, Saint 45 Cyrus (Persian king) 5 Czeglédi, István 51, 56–64 Darius (Persian king) 5 David (king of Israel) 97 Day, John 15, 16, 22 Dedekind, Friedrich 86 Delacroix-Besnier, Claudine 134, 139 Della Casa, Giovanni (archbishop of Benevento) 90 Demosthenes 81, 161 Dézsi, András 59 Dierig, Kaspar, SJ 285 Dietrichstein, Franz von (cardinal, bishop of Olomouc) 278 Diomedes (grammarian) 85 Dionysios Areopagita. See PseudoDionysius the Areopagite

Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres Dominic of Caleruega (founder of the Dominicans) 131 Don Juan of Austria 88 Dondaine, Antoine 134, 140 Dositheos II (patriarch of Jerusalem) 173 Dousa, Janus 86 Druzhynin, Volodymyr 31 Du Duc, Fronton, SJ 201 Dujþev, Ivan 145 Duns Scotus 171 Durych, Václav Fortunát 214 Eber, Paul 325 Eckhart. See Meister Eckhart Edward VI (king of England) 18, 19, 67 Egidio da Viterbo (cardinal) 105 Eliade, Mircea 49 Elizabeth I (queen of England) 19 Emmanuel Philibert (duke of Savoy) xv Enyedi, István 183 Ephrem the Syrian, Saint 279 Erasmus of Rotterdam 21, 68, 77, 86, 103, 104, 222 Esterházy, Nicolaus 314 Eudaemon-Joannes, Andreas, SJ 162, 168 Eugene IV (pope) 151, 264, 266– 70, 273, 274 Euripides 73 Eusebius of Caesarea 210 Eve 60, 117–24, 296, 302 Ezechiel (prophet) 299 Faber, Frederick William xxiii Faber, Johann 90 Fábián, János 239 Fejes, Sámuel 241 Felix V (antipope) 266–70, 272 Ferdinand I (emperor) 326 Ferdinand II (king of Spain) 11 Ficino, Marsilio 219 Fiera, Battista 102 Filelfo, Francesco 86

343

Fischart, Johann 90 Flaxius z ýeĖkova, BartolomČj 201 Fleming, Juliet 191, 192 Forgatz, Franciscus (bischop of Nitra) 314, 315 Fóris Otrokocsi, Franciscus 262 Forster, Johann 325 Foxe, John 24 Francis II (king of France) 4 Francis II Rákóczi (prince of Transylvania) 146, 248 Francis Xavier, Saint 311–13 Franck, Sebastian 219, 221, 222 Francus (legendary king of the Franks) 4 Fredegar 4 Frederick III (king of Germany) 266 Frischlin, Nicodemus 90 Gabriel Severos (metropolitan of Philadelphia) 162–64 Gabriel, Archangel 109, 122 Gadamer, Hans-Georg 31 Gagny, Jean de 200-1 Gaillac, Guillaume-Bernard de, OP 134 Galeota, Gustavo 161 Gamerius, Hannardus 87–89, 91–98 Gardiner, Stephen 73, 80 Gawach, Jacobus 32 Geoffrey of Monmouth 4 Gerganos, Zacharios 168 Gilby, Anthony 73, 80, 81 Gomer (son of Japheth) 4 Gomez de Ciudad Real, Alvaro 102 Gonsiorek (councillor of Lviv) 32 Grafton, Anthony 180 Gregory I (pope) 71, 120, 292 Gregory XIII (pope) 200 Gregory XV (pope) 166 Gregory of Nazianzus, Saint 80 Gretser, Jakob, SJ 90, 91, 322–25, 327, 328 Grimaldi, Girolamo. See Jerome (archbishop of Edessa)

344

Index of Names

Gruszczynski, Valerianus, OCD 30 Gui, Bernard, OP 132 Guido of Arezzo xx Gustav II Adolf (king of Sweden) 64, 290 Gustavus Vasa (king of Sweden) 6, 8, 9, 11 Habermas, Jürgen 31 Hajek, Wenceslaus (chronicler) 202 Haris, Emanuel 241 Harvey, Gabriel 180 Hastaba, Ellen 321, 322 Hätzer, Ludwig 220 Hector 4 Heilbrunner, Jakob 328 Henry VIII (king of England) 18 Hermes Trismegistos 227 Herodotus 8 Hessels van Est, Willem 201 Hieronymus. See Jerome, Saint Hillier, Russell M. 124 Hippolytus of Rome, Saint 60 Hoffman, JindĜich OndĜej 284 Hofman Peerlkamp, Petrus 89 Hooper, John 71 Horace 85, 89, 93, 94 Hospinian, Rudolf 325 Hugh of Saint Victor 219 Humbert of Romans 132, 139 Hunnius, Nicolaus 226 Hus, Jan 103 Hutchinson, Roger 75 Hutten, Ulrich von 86 Ignatius of Loyola xx, 91, 278, 311–13 Innocent III (pope) 72 Iovine, Michaela 155 Isaac (son of Abraham) 117 Isabella I (queen of Spain) 11 Isaiah (prophet) 48, 74, 296, 300, 303 Isocrates 73, 74, 81, 162 Ivanova, Nayda 155 Izbicki, Thomas M. 266

Japheth (son of Noah) 4, 7 Jardine, Lisa 180 Jerome (archbishop of Edessa) 158 Jerome, Saint 332 Jesaja. See Isaiah Jewel, John (bishop of Salisbury) 23 Jezernik, Maksimilijan 152 Johannes Magnus 3, 5–12 John XI Bekkos (patriarch of Constantinople) 140 John of Damascus, Saint 80, 210 John the Baptist 111 John the Evangelist 101, 107 Jonston, John xvii Jordan of Saxony 131 Jordanes (historian) 5, 8 Joseph II (emperor, king of Hungary) 198, 229, 233, 235 Joseph, Saint 109 Josephowicz (Jozefowicz), Joannes Thomas 27–42 Joshua (Moses’s assistant) 212 Julius II (pope) 86 Jupiter 74 Justinus (historian) 8 Juvenal 85, 89, 93 Juvencus 101 Kappel, Hartung von 266, 268, 272, 273 Kapsberger, Girolamo 310, 311 Karantsi, Borbála 249, 250, 252, 254–61 Károlyi, Antal (count) 240, 241 Karyophylles, Iohannes Matthaios 167 Kašiü, Bartol 154 Kattics, Michael, SJ 251, 252 Kempis, Thomas à 103 Kézdivasárhelyi. See Matkó, István Khmelnytsky, Bohdan 27–29, 35– 37 Khunrath, Heinrich 225 Kirchmeyer. See Naogeorgus, Thomas

Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres Kis, Emericus, SJ 181 Klenowicz, Sebastianus 39 Kollonitz, Leopold Karl von (cardinal) 146 Koniáš, Antonín, SJ 197 Konstanc, JiĜí, SJ. See Constantius, Georgius, SJ Kontares, Kyrillos. See Kyrillos II Kontares Koressios, Georgios 171, 172, 175 Kornis, György 236 Korydalleus, Theophilos 171, 173 Kostiü, Mita 147, 148, 159 KĘszeghy, László (bishop of Csanád) 238 Kot, Vincent (archbishop, primate of Poland) 268, 270 Krantz, Albert 8 Krause, Christoph 291 Kristeller, Paul O. 70 Kristóf, Ildikó 232 Kritopoulos, Metrophanes 169–71 Krupsky, Daniel, SJ 198 Ku[o]gler, Elias 289, 307 Kuenburg, Franz Ferdinand von (archbishop of Prague) 200 Kuszewicz, Samuel 28 Kuzmenko, Dmytro 31 Kyrillos II Kontares (patriarch of Constantinople) 171 Kyrillos Lukaris (patriarch of Alexandria and Constantinople) 165, 166, 168, 169, 171, 173, 175 La Haye, Jean de, OFM 201 Ladislas I (king of Hungary) 254 Landi, Stefano 311 Lapide, Cornelius à, SJ 201–4 Lasso, Orlando di 310 Laurentius Andreae 6, 9, 10 Laurentius Petri Nericius 6, 7 Lautensack, Paul 227, 228 Le Leu de Wilhelm, David de 168 Leander (bishop of Seville) 10, 11 Léger, Antoine 171

345

Leo X (pope) 105 Leontiev, Dmytro 31 Leopold I (emperor) 153 Lequile, Francesco da, OFM 170 Levakoviü, Rafael, OFM 154 Limbai Nagy, István 242 Lippai, Samuel 182 Livy 73, 180 Loenertz, Raymond-Joseph 134 Lohelius, Jan (archbishop of Prague) 198 Lubac, Henri de 299 Lucian (the author of the Philopatris) 77 Lucilius, Gaius Ennius 85, 94 Lukaris, Kyrillos. See Kyrillos Lukaris Luke the Evangelist 101, 210, 213 Luther, Martin 68, 94, 103, 104, 112, 116, 164, 189, 190, 203, 219–22, 224, 228, 286, 291–93, 296, 297, 299, 303, 305, 306, 321, 323–25, 328 Lyra, Nicolaus de. See Nicolaus de Lyra, OFM Machiavelli, Niccolò 313 Machyn, Henry 18 Magnus, Johannes. See Johannes Magnus Magnus, Olaus. See Olaus Magnus Magog (grandson of Noah) 3, 7 Magyari, István 55, 56 Malachi (prophet) 203 Maldonado, Juan, SJ 200, 202 Mallant, Jordan 272 Manetho (Egyptian historian) 4 Mantovano, Battista 102 Margounios, Maximios 164, 165 Maria Theresa (empress and king of Hungary) 234 Mark Eugenicus (metropolitan of Ephesus) 150 Martial 86 Martius, Wolfgang 95 Martonffy, Georgius 147

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Index of Names

Maruliü, Marko 102, 103 Mary, Saint 101, 102, 104, 106, 109, 110, 169, 210 Mary I (queen of England) 19 Matevich, Vincenzo 145, 147 Matheson, Peter 80 Matkó, István 50–52, 179–90 Matthew the Evangelist 101 Mayer von Mayern, Daniel Joseph (archbishop of Prague) 202 Meister Eckhart 219 Melanchthon, Philip 23, 83, 220, 325 Meletios I Pegas (patriarch of Alexandria) 163, 165 Mennecke-Haustein, Ute 248 Menochio, Giovanni Stefano, SJ 201 Michael I Apafi (prince of Transylvania) 248 Migazzi, Christoph (bishop of Vác) 241 Mike, István 262 Miladinova, Nadia 173, 174 Miletich, Lyubomir 145 Milich, Marco 156 Milotai Nyilas, István 56 Milton, John 117, 118, 122–25 Moers, Dietrich von (archbishop of Cologne) 270 Molière 318 Molina, Luis de, SJ xx Montecalvo, Rolando 264 Monteverdi, Claudio 311 Montismoretanus, Humbertus 102 Mosaeus. See Gamerius, Hannardus Moses 7, 61, 83, 97, 212, 301, 306 Müntzer, Thomas 220, 227 Muzio, Macario 102, 103 Nagel, Paul 227 Nagy, György János 241 Nagyborosnyai, Mihály 183 Nagyborosnyai, Sámuel. See Borosnyai, Sámuel Naogeorgus, Thomas 89, 90, 93

Nicholas V (pope) 271, 273 Nichols, John 18 Nicolaus de Lyra, OFM 200 Nikházi, Mária (baroness) 259, 260 Noah 3, 4, 7, 62–64 Nogueras, Jaime Gilberto de 326 Olaus Magnus 6, 7 Olaus Petri Nericius 6, 9, 10 Oldrieve (Burchmore), Susan 119 OleĞnicki, Zbigniew (cardinal, bishop of Kraków) 265, 268, 270 Opitz, Martin 277 Oreški, Ana 99, 110 Orosius (historian) 8 Orpheus 89 Osiander, Andreas 220 Palingenius, Marcellus Stellatus 86 Pancirolli, Guido xv–xviii, xx, xxiv, xxv Pap, Mihály 239 Paracelsus, Theophrastus 219, 221, 222, 224, 226–28 Pareus, David 57 Parker, Matthew (archbishop of Canterbury) 18 Parkhurst, John (bishop of Norfolk) 16, 22 Pastorius, Joachim 27 Paštriü, Ivan 152, 153 Pastrizio, Giovanni. See Paštriü, Ivan Paul von Samosata 279 Paul, Saint (the apostle) 61, 74, 78, 291, 303, 305 Pázmány, Peter (cardinal, archbishop of Esztergom) 45, 47, 55, 60, 63, 189, 256, 257, 261, 314 Pécsváradi, Péter 56 Peerlkamp. See Hofman Peerlkamp, Petrus Pegas, Meletios. See Meletios I Pegas

Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres Peichich; Peikiþ. See Peykich, Krastyo Persius 85, 89, 91–93 Peter the Great (tsar of Russia) 153 Peter, Saint (the apostle) 57, 62, 63, 78, 207, 253, 267, 271, 273 Petki, Zsuzsanna (countess) 251 Petrarch 265 Petricius, Joannes 29 Petrus Petrejus 7 Petrytsyi, Yan. See Petricius, Joannes Peyachevich, Marco 148 Peykich, Krastyo 143–60 Pflaumer, Christoph, SJ 201, 202 Philaras, Leonardos 167–69 Photius (patriarch of Constantinople) 150, 153 Piccolomini, Enea Silvio 206, 207, 264–74 Pico della Mirandola, Giovanni 219 Pineas, Rainer 17 Plato 73, 74 Plutarch xvi Podskalsky, Gerhard 164, 169 Polheim, Karl Konrad 322 Polydore Vergil 16 Polyxena (daughter of King Priam) 72 Porter, Harry C. 68 Pósaházi, János 51, 52 Procházka, František Faustin 197, 214 Procopius (historian) 8 Prokopios, Demetrios 174 Prynne, William 26 Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite 101, 227 Pyvotsky, Martyn 41 Rabe, Johann Jakob 90 Ragvaldi, Nicolaus 5 Rahner, Hugo 60, 62 Raiano, Innocenz, OFM 170 Rákóczi, Francis. See Francis II Rákóczi

347

Raphael, Archangel 122 Recaredus (king of the Visigoths) 10, 11 Reichel, Johannes 228 Reingrabner, Gustav 290 René (king of Provence) 267 Rezar, Vlado 100 Rhodinos, Neophytos 167–69 Richard. See Recaredus Riebe, Alexandra 140 Riegger, Josef Anton von 213 Romuald Štandreški, OFMCap 330, 332 Ronsard, Pierre de 4 Rost, Georg 227 Rozemond, Keetje 169 Rozenplut, Jan 278–81 Rózsa, Ferenc 242 Rudolph II (emperor) 225 Rueff, Jakob 322 Rummel, Erika 68 Russell, Francis (earl of Bedford) 16, 19, 24 Ryan, Lawrence K. 69 Sabellico, Marco Antonio 8 Sachs, Hans 322 Salmuth, Heinrich, Jr. xvi Salutati, Coluccio 265 Samarjai, János 252 Sambar, Matthias, SJ 46–53, 179– 83, 185, 187–89 Samson 331-32 Sannazaro, Jacopo 96, 102 Santa Croce, Andrea da 152 Sarcerius, Erasmus 325 Scaliger, Julius Caesar 86 Schabel, Christopher 139, 140 Schelhammer, Johann 227 Scherer, Georg, SJ 201, 202 Schmidlinus; Schmiedlein. See Andreae, Jakob Schreier, Josef 317 Schroderus, Ericus 7 Schwartz, Simon 249, 250

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Index of Names

Schwenckfeld, Caspar 220, 222, 228 Scott-Warren, Jason 193 Scribner, Robert W. 187, 189, 191 Serarius, Nicolaus, SJ 201, 202 Serino, Francesco da, OFM 170 Severos, Gabriel. See Gabriel Severos Seymour, Edward (lord protector) 18 Siebmacher, Johannes 225 Sierck, Jakob von (archbishop of Trier) 269 Simon the Sorcerer 203 Simon of Constantinople, OP 133 Siropulo, Silvester 152 Sisebutus (king of the Visigoths) 11 Skarga, Piotr, SJ 165 Smolinsky, Heribert 138 Smyth (Smith), Richard 23, 24 Sobek von Bilenberk, Matthäus Ferdinand (archbishop of Prague) 198, 199 Solikowski, Jan Dymitr (archbishop of Lviv) 165 Solomon (king of Israel) 97 Spalatin, Georg 286 Spanheim, Friedrich, Jr. xxi Štajer, MatČj Václav, SJ. See Steyer, Matthias Wenceslaus, SJ Stanhope, Anne (duchess of Somerset) 19 Stapleton, Thomas 25, 55 Staud, Géza 312, 313 Sten, Simon 90, 91 Stephen, Saint (protomartyr) 318 Stephen I (king of Hungary) 211, 254 Stevartius, Petrus 131, 137 Steyer, Matthias Wenceslaus, SJ 199, 200, 204 Steyner, Heinrich 292 Stieber, Joachim W. 270 Stojkoviü, John (cardinal) 267 Strozzi, Tito Vespasiano 86 Šturm, Václav, SJ 201, 278–80

Suárez, Francisco 55 Sybille 227 Sylvius, Henry 93–94 Syrigos, Meletios 173, 174 Székély, István 59 Szent-Ivany, Martinus, SJ xv–xxvi, 255–57, 261 Szeremlei, Sámuel 240 Szikszai, Benjámin 242 Tauler, Johannes 219, 222, 227 Terserus, Elaus 7 Tertullian 45 Theocritus 88 Thomas à Kempis. See Kempis, Thomas à Thomas Aquinas 101, 152, 170, 171 Thumm, Theodor 227 Titus Livius. See Livy Toledo, Francisco de, SJ 201 Totaro, Luigi 266 Tóth, István 145 Trivulzio, Agostino (cardinal) 105 Trolle, Gustavus 6 Tugwell, Simon 132, 133 Tuiscon (legendary king of the Germans) 4. See also Ascenas Tunick, Evhen 31 Turþinoviü, Josip 152, 153, 156 Ulfilas (Ulphilas) 9,10 Urban VIII (pope) 168 Uriel, Archangel 122 Ursinus, Zacharias 57 Usher, Brett 17 Valencia, Gregorius de 55 Valvasor, Janez Vajkard 329 Varga, János 242 Vasilyeva, Irina 31 Vermigli, Peter Martyr 79 Vergil, Polydore. See Polydore Vergil Verniero, Pietro, OFM 170 Vetter, Conrad, SJ 328

Themes of Polemical Theology Across Early Modern Literary Genres Vickrey, John F. 121 Vida, Marco Girolamo 102, 108, 109 Virgil 88 Visconti, Filippo Maria (duke of Milan) 269 Voltz, Melchior 328 Vuliü, Sanja 159 Wagenseil, Georg Christoph 318 Waldstein, Johann Friedrich von (archbishop of Prague) 199, 200, 202, 203 Waldt, J. de 200 Wegelin, Johann 289 Wegelin, Josua 289–92, 294, 297, 299, 300, 302, 303, 305, 306 Weigel, Valentin 219–28 Wild, Sebastian 322 Willi, Jacob, SJ 209

349

Wáadisáaw III (king of Poland) 265 Wolfson, Jonathan 68 Woolf, Rosemary 119 Xerxes (Persian king) 5 Yakovenko, Natalia 30 Yuzefovych, Yan. See Josephowicz, Joannes Thomas Zapf, Nicolaus 227 Zeaemann, Georg 328 Zielinski, Constantinus (archbishop of Lviv) 30 Zigabenos, Euthymios 174 Zimorowicz, Bartholomaeus 29, 31, 32, 39, 40 Žižka, Jan 207 Zwingli, Ulrich 97, 224