Preacher, Sermon and Audience in the Middle Ages

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Muessig.vw.l

03-12-2001

14:54

Pagina 1

PREACHER, SERMON AND AUDIENCE

IN THE MIDDLE AGES

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Muessig.vw.l

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PREACHER, SERMON AND AUDIENCE

IN THE MIDDLE AGES

EDITED BY

CAROLYN MUESSIG

BRILL LEIDEN BOSTON • KÖLN 2002 •

Muessig.vw.l

03-12-2001

14:54

Pagina 4

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Die Deutsche Bibliothek - CIP-Einheitsaufnahme Muessig, Carolyn: Preacher, sermon and audience in the Middle Ages / by Carolyn Muessig. – Leiden ; Boston ; Köln : Brill, 2002 ISBN 90–04–11416–5

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is also available.

ISBN 90 04 11416 5 © Copyright 2002 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Brill provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910 Danvers MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. printed in the netherlands

TABLE OF CONTENTS Dedication . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix

Acknowledgments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . List of Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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List of Plates . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xvii

PART ONE INTRODUCTION

Preacher, Sermon and Audience in the Middle Ages: An Introduction Carolyn Muessig . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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PART TWO TRENDS IN MEDIEVAL SERMON STUDIES

From Texts to Preaching: Retrieving the Medieval Sermon as an Event Augustine Thompson, OP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13

PART THREE RHETORIC AND PREACHING

The Ars Praedicandi and the Medieval Sermon Phyllis Roberts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 41 Coram Papa Preaching and Rhetorical Community at Papal Avignon Blake Beattie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63

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   PART FOUR PREACHING AND PERFORMANCE

Medieval Sermons and their Performance: Theory and Record Beverly Mayne Kienzle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89 PART FIVE PREACHING AND ART

The Preacher as Goldsmith: The Italian Preachers’ Use of the Visual Arts Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127 Preaching and Image: Sermons and Wall Paintings in Later Medieval England Miriam Gill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155 The Preacher Saint in Late Medieval Italian Art Roberto Rusconi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181 PART SIX PREACHER AND AUDIENCE

Vercelli Homilies  –  and the Anglo-Saxon Benedictine Reform: Tailored Sources and Implied Audiences Charles D. Wright . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203 The Preacher as Women’s Mentor Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229 Audience and Preacher: Ad Status Sermons and Social Classiﬁcation Carolyn Muessig . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255

  

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PART SEVEN SERMONS AS AN HISTORICAL SOURCE

The Context of Medieval Sermon Collections on Saints George Ferzoco . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279 Reconstructing the Mental Calendar of Medieval Preaching: A Method and Its Limits – An Analysis of Sunday Sermons Jussi Hanska . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293 Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 317

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Dedication I am honored to dedicate this volume, on behalf of its editor, Carolyn Muessig, and all its contributors, to Louis-Jacques Bataillon, O.P. I frequently refer to the International Medieval Sermon Studies Society as a society of mentors; that term corresponds to both a vision for future growth and a description of current and past reality. No one deserves grateful recognition as a mentor more than Father Bataillon. Immensely erudite, always helpful, encouraging, and eager to welcome new research, he has guided many young scholars along their ﬁrst journeys through the baﬄing complexities of medieval sermons and their manuscripts. He has also become for us a ‘‘socius itineris’’, a friend wherever we have gone (Genesis 35, 3). The contributors to this outstanding book and to the many valuable publications that have enriched the ﬁeld in recent decades owe him an enormous debt of thanks, one that I express for all not only with gratitude but also with great aﬀection. Beverly Mayne Kienzle President of the International Medieval Sermon Studies Society Boston, Massachusetts, 22 April 2001

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to record my gratitude to the University of Bristol Research Fund and the Department of Theology and Religious Studies, University of Bristol, for their generous support which allowed me to undertake the editorship of this volume. Thanks are also due to Fr James Farge and Caroline Suma of the Pontiﬁcal Institute of Mediaeval Studies Library, Toronto, Canada, for their kind assistance. The dedicated participation of all the contributors to Preacher, Sermon and Audience is warmly acknowledged. I am grateful to Julian Deahl, Senior Editor, Brill, who invited me to organize and edit this volume, and to Bill George the copy-editor. Special thanks go to George Ferzoco, University of Leicester, whose patience and advice have made the task of editing so much easier. Carolyn Muessig 23 May 2001 Bristol, UK

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LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS Blake Beattie is Assistant Professor in the History Department at the University of Louisville, Kentucky. His research interests include the Avignon Papacy and medieval preaching. He has published extensively on these themes in such journals as Mediaeval Studies and Medieval Sermon Studies. Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby teaches Medieval History at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Her research interests include the sermons of Giovanni Dominici, Italian medieval and Renaissance preaching, and preachers and their pulpits. Recent publications include: ‘‘The Stormy Preaching of Giovanni Dominici in Renaissance Florence 1400–1406,’’ Archivio italiano per la storia della pieta 12 (1999), 65–87; ‘‘Jews and Judaism in the Rhetoric of Popular Preachers,’’ Jewish History 14 (2000), 175–200; and Renaissance Florence in the Rhetoric of Two Popular Preachers: Giovanni Dominici (1356–1419) and Bernardino da Siena (1380–1444) (Turnhout, in press). George Ferzoco is Lecturer in Italian Studies at the University of Leicester. His research interests include medieval hagiography, canonization, and forms of education. Recent publications include Medieval Monastic Education (co-edited with Carolyn Muessig; London, 2000) and ‘‘An Italian Archbishop’s Sermon to the Pope,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 43 (1999), 67–74. Miriam Gill holds a doctorate from the Courtauld Institute of Art, University of London and is a part-time lecturer and researcher at the University of Leicester. Her research focuses on later medieval wall paintings in England, particularly their relationship to literature, drama, society and sacred space. Her recent publications include studies of the role of wall paintings in monastic education and the textual sources of the Eton College murals. She has produced an on-line resource about churches with wall paintings of both the Seven Deadly Sins and Seven Corporal Works of Mercy.

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Jussi Hanska is Researcher of the Finnish Academy, University of Tampere. His research interests include medieval model sermon collections and the history of natural disasters. Recent publications include ‘‘And the Rich Man also Died; and He was Buried in Hell’’ – The Social Ethos in Mendicant Sermons (Helsinki, 1997); ‘‘La responsabilité du père dans les sermons du e siècle,’’ Cahiers de Recherches médiévales (e–e siècles) 4 (1997); ‘‘Cessante causa cessat et eﬀectus. Sin and Natural Disasters in Medieval Sermons,’’ in Roma, magistra mundi. Itineraria culturae medievalis, vol. 3 (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1998). Beverly Mayne Kienzle is Professor of the Practice in Latin and Romance Languages, Harvard Divinity School; and is current President of the International Medieval Sermon Studies Society. Recent publications include: The Sermon (Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 81–83) (Turnhout, 2000); Cistercians, Heresy and Crusade (1145–1229): Preaching in the Lord’s Vineyard (Woodbridge, 2001); ‘‘Hildegard of Bingen’s Teaching in her Expositiones evangeliorum and Ordo Virtutum,’’ in Medieval Monastic Education, ed. George Ferzoco and Carolyn Muessig (London, 2000), pp. 72–86; ‘‘Battered Women and the Construction of Sanctity,’’ (with Nancy Nienhuis), Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 17.1 (Spring 2001), 33–61. Carolyn Muessig is Lecturer in Medieval Theology, University of Bristol. Her research interests include the sermons of Jacques de Vitry, monastic history, and medieval women’s education. Recent publications include Medieval Monastic Education (co-edited with George Ferzoco; London, 2000); The Faces of Women in the Sermons of Jacques de Vitry (Toronto, 1999); and Medieval Monastic Preaching (Leiden, 1998). She is co-editor (with Veronica O’Mara) of the journal Medieval Sermon Studies. Phyllis B. Roberts is Professor of History, Emerita, The City University of New York. Her research interests include the history of medieval preaching and the cult of St Thomas Becket. She is the author of Thomas Becket in the Medieval Latin Preaching Tradition: An Inventory of Sermons about St Thomas Becket c. 1170 – c. 1400 (The Hague, 1992); Selected Sermons of Stephen Langton (Toronto, 1980); and Stephanus de Lingua-Tonante: Studies in the Sermons of Stephen Langton (Toronto, 1968). She is a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society.

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Roberto Rusconi is Professor of the History of Christianity at the University of L’Aquila (Italy). His research interests include diﬀerent ﬁelds in the religious history of the later Middle Ages. His publications include: Women and Religion in Medieval and Renaissance Italy (coedited with Daniel E. Bornstein; Chicago, 1996); The Book of Prophecies edited by Christopher Columbus (Berkeley, 1997); Women’s Sermons at the End of the Middle Ages: Texts from the Blessed and the Images of Saints (Berkeley, 1998); Profezia e profeti alla ﬁne del Medioevo (Roma, 1999); La vita religiosa nel tardo Medioevo: Fra istituzione e devozione, in Chiesa, chiese, movimenti religiosi (co-edited with G.M. Cantarella and V. Polonio; Roma-Bari, 2001). Fr Augustine Thompson, OP, is Associate Professor of Christian Thought, University of Virginia, Charlottesville, Virginia. His research and publications have focused on high medieval thought and spirituality, canon law, and religious life in Italy. Among his publications are Revival Preaching and Politics in Thirteenth-Century Italy (Oxford, 1992), and (with James Gordley) Gratian: The Treatise on Laws with the Ordinary Gloss (Washington DC, 1993). Charles D. Wright, Associate Professor of English at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, is author of The Irish Tradition in Old English Literature (Cambridge, 1993), and of essays on Old English poetry and prose and Hiberno-Latin literature in journals such as Anglia, Anglo-Saxon England, Journal of Medieval Latin, andTraditio. Current projects include an article on ‘‘Some New Latin Texts of the Apocalypse of Thomas’’ and a study of the transmission of Hiberno-Latin literature in Anglo-Saxon manuscripts.

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LIST OF PLATES

Plates 1–4 (between p. 153 and p. 154), for Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, ‘‘The Preacher as Goldsmith: The Italian Preachers’ Use of the Visual Arts:’’ 1. Neroccio di Bartolomeo de’Landi. The preaching of St Bernardino in the Piazza del Campo. 2. Ambrogio Lorenzetti. Peace / The Eﬀects of Good Government on the City. 3. Ambrogio Lorenzetti. Peace / The Eﬀects of Good Government on the Country. 4. Ambrogio Lorenzetti. War / Bad Government and the City. Plates 1–8 (between p. 153 and p. 154), for Miriam Gill, ‘‘Sermons and Wall Paintings in Later Medieval England:’’ 1. Wheel of Fortune. North wall of the Choir, Rochester Cathedral (c1245–50). 2. St John the Baptist. Thornham Parva Retable (prior to restoration). 3. Memento Mori image of the poems Erthe upon Erthe and Whoo so hym be thought. South side of the west wall, Chapel of the Guild of the Holy Cross, Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire. 4. Cruciﬁxion. Upper storey of the Chantry Chapel of Abbot Islip (d. 1532), Westminster Abbey. From the Mortuary Roll of Abbot Islip (Westminster Abbey). 5. Warning to Swearers. North wall of the nave, Broughton, Buckinghamshire. 6. Warning to Gossips. West wall, Colton, Norfolk.

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7. St Edward’s Confessor seeing the Christ child in the host. Leofric counselling St Edward to keep his vision secret. South arcade, Friskney, Lincolnshire. 8. Ritual Host Desecration. South arcade, Friskney, Lincolnshire. Plates 1–14 (between p. 186 and p. 187), for Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘The Preacher Saint in Late Medieval Italian Art:’’ 1. Master of St John of Capestrano. St Bernardino of Siena. 2. Bartolomeo degli Erri. St Vincent Ferrer. 3. Benozzo Gozzoli. The sermon of St Ambrose and the dispute with St Augustine. 4. St Augustine, Sermones. Basel, 1494–95. 5. Ligurian school of the end of the 15th century. Bernardino of Feltre preaches from a pulpit. 6. Tiberio of Assisi. St Francis promulgating the indulgence of the Porziuncola. 7. La vita e li miracoli del glorioso confessore sancto Antonio de Padoa. Verona, 1493–95. The saint preaches to the ﬁshes. 8. Jacopo Bellini. St Bernardino da Siena in the pulpit. 9. Lorenzo di Pietro, called ‘‘Vecchietta’’. St Bernardino da Siena preaching. 10. Gian Giacomo da Lodi. Scenes from the life of St Bernardino of Siena. 11. North Italian engraver(ca. 1470–80). St Bernardino of Siena. 12. Erri workshop. Polyptych of St Peter Martyr: (detail): the miracle of the crazed horse.

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13. Erri workshop. Polyptych of St Thomas Aquinas (detail): the saint preaching. 14. Giovan Pietro Ferraro, Tesauro Spirituale. Milan, 1499. Woodcut of Christ preaching to Mary Magdalene.

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PART ONE

INTRODUCTION

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CHAPTER ONE

PREACHER, SERMON AND AUDIENCE IN THE MIDDLE AGES: AN INTRODUCTION Carolyn Muessig The most common question that scholars of medieval preaching are asked is ‘‘What is a sermon?’’ It is an excellent question, and like most excellent questions, it is diﬃcult to answer.1 Since sermons come in many styles and genres there is no straightforward response.2 Moreover, scholars of preaching have always recognized sermons as a rich resource for what they indicate about medieval culture. Because sermons intersect with so many aspects of daily life they can be mined in a variety of ways for insights into medieval thought and practice. The diversity of the sermon genre and the richness of information which sermons hold are the focus of Preacher, Sermon and Audience in the Middle Ages. The study examines the role of sermons and the function of preaching in western Europe between the tenth and ﬁfteenth centuries. Some of the themes presented in this volume such as ‘‘Preaching and Performance,’’ ‘‘Preaching and Art,’’ and ‘‘Preacher and Audience’’ have until now received little attention. This study establishes these themes as signiﬁcant areas of research in the ﬁeld of sermon studies. Moreover, it revisits more traditional themes such as ‘‘Rhetoric and Preaching’’ and ‘‘Sermons as an Historical Source’’ which hold abundant research opportunities.

1 See Beverly Mayne Kienzle, ed., The Sermon (Typologie des Sources du Moyen Âge Occidental 81–83; Turnhout, 2000) for the most comprehensive answer to this question. 2 See Carolyn Muessig, ‘‘What is Medieval Monastic Preaching: An Introduction,’’ in Medieval Monastic Preaching (Brill’s Studies in Intellectual History 90, ed. Carolyn Muessig; Leiden, 1998), pp. 3–16, at 3–5.

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Trends in Medieval Sermon Studies

In the last thirty years monographs and articles on medieval sermon studies have increased with amazing consistency and speed. This has resulted mainly from J.-B. Schneyer’s invaluable list of medieval Latin sermon incipits and explicits.3 Schneyer’s study has allowed scholars to explore themes and topics which formerly lay hidden in manuscripts throughout Europe. Augustine Thompson’s article at once outlines these themes and landmark works which have arisen in medieval sermon studies, while pointing to areas of research which need further analysis.4 Covering topics ranging from the sermon transmission to the relatively unexplored ﬁeld of preaching and art, Thompson’s article is a locus classicus for anyone needing a digestible and comprehensive introduction to the history of medieval preaching and its recent scholarship. Rhetoric and Preaching Sermons are often analyzed in relation to the moral lesson which they convey. The tone of this lesson was modulated by the preacher’s understanding of rhetoric. Phyllis Roberts’s article analyzes handbooks of preaching (artes praedicandi) which presented ‘‘rhetorical systems’’ for preachers to adopt. Based on an analysis of various artes praedicandi, Roberts shows how these handbooks developed in relation to the increased demand for preachers to carry out popular preaching in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.5 Blake Beattie’s article analyzes a form of preaching rhetoric which was not popular; in fact, ‘‘it spoke most directly to a very speciﬁc Christian community comprised exclusively or almost exclusively of Churchmen.’’6 Beattie considers the language of curial preaching at fourteenth-century Avignon. Through a careful study 3 Johann-Baptist Schneyer, Reportorium des lateinischen Sermones des Mittelalters für die Zeit von 1150–1350 (Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie des Mittelalters. Texte und Untersuchungen 43; Westphalia, 1969–90), 11 vols. 4 See Augustine Thompson, ‘‘From Texts to Preaching: Retrieving the Medieval Sermon as an Event,’’ in this volume. 5 SeePhyllisRoberts,‘‘TheArsPraedicandiandtheMedievalSermon,’’inthisvolume. 6 See Blake Beattie, ‘‘Coram Papa Preaching and Rhetorical Community at Papal Avignon,’’ in this volume.

,   :  

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of the rhetoric of sermons contained in Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, he uncovers a particular language which helped bring cohesion to the quite diverse national origins and religious professions of the men who comprised the fourteenth-century papal curia. Preaching and Performance The ephemeral nature of preaching poses many problems for sermon scholars. The active nature of preaching is locked into texts which obscure the overall performance of the preacher and his sermon. For the most part, the preacher’s gestures, tones, and interaction with his audience are elements that evade concrete analysis. However, Beverly Mayne Kienzle puts forward a provocative proposal in her article which outlines a method for reconstructing the preaching event.7 By relying on the methodology of ‘‘performance theory’’ Kienzle outlines an approach which allows for the possibility of retrieving aspects of the preacher’s performance. Among others, the preaching performances of Bernard of Clairvaux, Bernardino da Siena, and Vincent of Ferrer are considered. Kienzle’s article highlights many themes which run through Preacher, Sermon and Audience in the Middle Ages. Augustine Thompson considers ‘‘the event’’ of preaching which is underlined in Kienzle’s article. Both Roberts and Beattie unpack the signiﬁcance of rhetoric in shaping the medium of the message. Kienzle too discusses ways for scholars to enliven the preaching event by considering the function of rhetoric; she even discusses how some preachers ‘‘performed’’ miracles in their sermons and how this made their points more eﬀective. Moreover, Kienzle ﬁnds evidence for preachers’ use of art in their sermons. Her observations on this point are taken up in the following section of our volume. Preaching and Art Preaching and its relation to art is an area much talked about but little studied. However, building upon the theme of reconstructing 7 Beverly Mayne Kienzle, ‘‘Medieval Sermons and their Performance: Theory and Record,’’ in this volume.

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 

the preacher in the act of preaching, Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, Miriam Gill, and Roberto Rusconi provide precious details regarding the relationship between art and preaching. By marrying the two disciplines of art history and sermon studies these three scholars come up with evidence which greatly increases our understanding of how some medieval preachers relayed their pastoral lessons. Debby ﬁrst considers how medieval Italian preachers (i.e., Giovanni Dominici, Bernardino da Siena, and Girolamo Savonarola) perceived the use of art in preaching.8 Moreover, with the example of Bernardino da Siena, Debby demonstrates in what manner a minister could preach and use art to underline his moral points. This is also brought out in Miriam Gill’s article.9 Turning to late medieval English wall paintings, Gill considers how such a medium could be used in sermons. Gill reﬂects on the ‘‘relationship between sermons and wall paintings in three stages: direct connections, common material, and general associations.’’ Through a thoughtful study of these issues, Gill’s evidence indicates that a preacher’s reliance on local art was not at all unusual. Moving back to Italy, Roberto Rusconi considers the depictions of saintly preachers in late medieval Italian art.10 Rusconi discusses the iconography of Augustine, Francis of Assisi, Anthony of Padua, Bernardino da Siena, and Vincent of Ferrer in relation to preaching. Rusconi notes that an increase in the depiction of preachers in ﬁfteenth-century art indicated a perception that preaching was indeed a saintly practice. Preacher and Audience An ongoing problem in the ﬁeld of sermon studies is determining audience composition. Identifying the audience is elusive because the sermon text often does not indicate this signiﬁcant morsel of information. The articles found in this section deal with the relationship between preacher and his audience. Charles D. Wright 8 Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, ‘‘The Preacher as Goldsmith: The Italian Preachers’ Use of the Visual Arts,’’ in this volume. 9 Miriam Gill, ‘‘Preaching and Image: Sermons and Wall Paintings in Later Medieval England,’’ in this volume. 10 Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘The Preacher Saint in Late Medieval Italian Art,’’ in this volume.

,   :  

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provides an excellent approach regarding how to establish the intended audience of a given sermon. The subject of his study is the Old English Vercelli homilies. By paying close attention to how preachers used sources in these homilies and what themes they employed, Wright argues that the audience was most likely not a monastic audience but a lay one.11 Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby’s article examines sermons directed to female audiences by the medieval Italian preacher Giovanni Dominici.12 Debby uncovers a complex series of themes which underline the diversity of the preacher’s message. She demonstrates how Dominici could at once show sensitivity to women’s diﬃculties and yet also show tendencies of misogyny. Moreover, Debby indicates how the preacher’s relationship with his audience inﬂuenced the content of his sermons. Carolyn Muessig’s article examines a rarity in medieval sermon collections–sermons which base all their themes on audience composition rather than on a liturgical event; these sermon collections are called sermones ad status.13 Focusing on the audiences portrayed in the ad status sermons of Honorius Augustodunensis, Jacques de Vitry, and Humbert of Romans, Muessig discusses why these preachers developed detailed commentaries on contemporary society. The study indicates that these sermons tell us more about the preachers and their particular agendas than it does about their audiences. Sermons as an Historical Source Unlike the sermones ad status collections which were quite rare, the last two articles are concerned with the study of very widespread liturgical sermon collections: the sermones de sanctis and the sermones dominicales. The ﬁrst article by George Ferzoco examines the function of sermons related to the feast days of saints. In demonstrating the many circumstances which occasioned such sermons, the article

11 Charles D. Wright, ‘‘Vercelli Homilies - and the Anglo-Saxon Benedictine Reform: Tailored Sources and Implied Audiences,’’ in this volume. 12 Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, ‘‘The Preacher as Women’s Mentor,’’ in this volume. 13 Carolyn Muessig, ‘‘Preacher and Audience: Ad status Sermons and Social Classiﬁcation,’’ in this volume.

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shows that the genre is not the monolith that most have until now assumed. Using Jacopo da Varazze’s sermon on St Andrew as one example, Ferzoco argues that liturgical setting and solemnity aﬀect the structure and content of such sermons. Moreover, preachers could use these occasions to make a variety of points that may not have been conveniently made during regular Sunday feasts.14 The ﬁnal article by Jussi Hanska focuses on sermons which were preached on Sundays–the sermones dominicales.15 Hanska tests David d’Avray’s thesis to see if these sermons contain recurring moral themes which would be preached at particular times of the year. This is what d’Avray calls ‘‘the drip-drip method of inculcating beliefs’’.16 Hanska considers the aspects of this method and how they can be used in historical investigation. Among many other compelling observations, one of the signiﬁcant points which arises from both of these articles is the importance of the sermon as a historical source which indicates that intellectual and popular knowledge of theology and religious practice were not worlds apart but often overlapped. Conclusion As medievalists make their way through the vast terrain of sermons, a greater understanding of medieval religious life and culture will continue to emerge. The contributors in this volume have brought that life and culture a little bit more into focus. By considering the preaching event, the rhetoric that the preacher used, the gestures of his performance, his use of art, his interaction with his audience, and the content of the moral lessons he hoped to instill in his audience’s mind, this volume presents us with a clearer comprehension of the role and signiﬁcance of the sermon in the Middle Ages.

14 George Ferzoco, ‘‘The Context of Medieval Sermon Collections on Saints,’’ in this volume. 15 Jussi Hanska, ‘‘Reconstructing the Mental Calendar of Medieval Preaching: A Method and Its Limits – An Analysis of Sunday Sermons,’’ in this volume. 16 David L. d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars. Sermons Diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1995), p. 251.

,   :  

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Select Bibliography

(What follows is a short list of excellent introductory books to the ﬁeld of medieval sermons studies.) Avray, David L. d’, The Preaching of the Friars. Sermons diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985). Bataillon, Louis-Jacques, La prédication au  siècle en France et Italie. Études et documents (Variorum Collected Studies Series; Aldershot, 1993). Bériou, Nicole and David L. d’Avray, eds., Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons: Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity (Biblioteca di Medioevo Latino 11; Spoleto, 1994). Delcorno, Carlo, La predicazione nell’età communale (Florence, 1974). Kienzle, Beverly Mayne, ed.,The Sermon (Typologie des Sources du Moyen Âge Occidental 81–83; Turnhout, 2000). Longère, Jean, La prédication médiévale (Études Augustiniennes Séries Moyen Âge et Temps Modernes 9; Paris, 1983). Martin, Hervé, Le métier de prédicateur en France septentrionale à la ﬁn du Moyen Âge (1350–1520) (Paris, 1988). Spencer, Helen Leith, English Preaching in the Late Middle Ages (Oxford, 1993). Thompson, Augustine, Revival Preachers and Politics in Thirteenth-Century Italy: The Great Revival of 1233 (Oxford, 1992). Zerfass, Rolf, Der Streit um die Laienpredigt. Eine pastoralgeschichtliche Untersuchung zum Verständis des Predigtamtes und zu seiner Entwicklung im 12. und 13. Jahrhundert (Untersuchungen zur Praktischen Theologie 2; Freiburg im Bresigau, Basle and Vienna, 1974).

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PART TWO

TRENDS IN MEDIEVAL SERMON STUDIES

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CHAPTER TWO

FROM TEXTS TO PREACHING: RETRIEVING THE MEDIEVAL SERMON AS AN EVENT Augustine Thompson, OP (University of Virginia) The study of medieval sermons has undergone a great transformation over the last twenty-ﬁve years. The older approach to sermon studies, which dominated into the 1970s, concentrated on the ‘‘history of preaching’’. It related extant sermons to the artes praedicandi and narrative sources, and mined the sermons themselves for anecdotal detail on social practice, religious attitudes, or mysticism. Complementing this narrative approach were occasional biographical studies on individual preachers. During the 1970s, focus shifted to the direct study of sermon texts themselves – in particular, those that remained in manuscript. Special attention was given to structure and transmission of texts. These textual studies gave a new texture to our understanding of certain types of preaching, for example, crusade preaching;1 but for medieval preaching as a whole no new grand narratives have been produced to replace those from the earlier part of this century.2 More recently, focus has shifted to preaching as a system of communication; and scholars have exploited sermons as sources for medieval attitudes toward death, the body, society, marriage, women, and sanctity. This new analysis has sometimes drawn on 1 E.g., Penny J. Cole, The Preaching of the Crusades to the Holy Land, 1095–1270 (Cambridge MA, 1991), which maps out for crusade preaching, three distinctive phases in the period from the late eleventh to early fourteenth century: 1095–1150, marked by individual ‘‘famous’’ preachers; 1190–1216, characterized by papal initiatives and the co-opting of innovative preachers like Vacarius, Joachim, and Fulk; and after 1220, the dominance of the mendicants. 2 De Ore Domini: Preacher and Word in the Middle Ages, ed. Thomas L. Amos, Eugene A. Green, Beverly Mayne Kienzle,[hereafter De Ore Domini] (Kalamazoo MI, 1989), pp. xii–xiii, recommends, among older works, Rudolf Cruel, Geschichte der deutschen Predigt im Mittelalter (Detmold, 1879), and Edwin C. Dargan, A History of Preaching, 2 vols. (New York, 1905–12).

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literary theory. These social and cultural studies have led one leading student of medieval sermons to wonder if there is now a danger of forgoing ‘‘empirical work on sources’’, in particular, that which requires ‘‘rigorous manuscript technique.’’3 Nonetheless, manuscript studies have continued. Meanwhile, a number of scholars have sought to draw on all these developments to recover medieval preaching as an oral event. This essay will ﬁrst examine the methodological changes implied by these developments. It will then turn to how they have provided new ways of reading the traditional sources for preaching, sermon texts, preaching tools, and narrative sources. Finally, it will review the variety of new sources for medieval preaching that have been identiﬁed and explored in this process. Methodological Developments The study of sermon texts is central to preaching studies, and the sophistication of this analysis has deepened over the past decades. Louis-Jacques Bataillon, when he surveyed the ﬁeld in 1980, focused almost exclusively on the analysis of manuscript sermons, whether as transmitted in stenographic or edited versions, and on the formation of sermon collections.4 This turn to unedited sermon texts as an object of study in the 1970s and early 1980s was partly triggered by the recognition that they exist in staggering numbers of heretofore ignored manuscripts.5 Extra-textual concerns were initially narrow, asking, for example, the sermon’s intended audience, its date, or the identity of the preacher.6 Older narrative his3 So David L. d’Avray, ‘‘Introduction,’’ in Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons: Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, ed. Nicole Bériou and David L. d’Avray, (Biblioteca di medioevo latino 11 Spoleto, 1994) [hereafter Modern Questions] p. ix; for an introduction to the state of sermon studies today, see David L. d’Avray, ‘‘Method in the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ Modern Questions, pp. 3–29, and Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Approaches to the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ Leeds Studies in English, n.s., 11 (1980) [repr. La Prédication au  e siècle, art. ]. These two essays, when compared, show the remarkable methodological changes over the ten years that separate them. 4 Ibid., pp. 19–35; John W. O’Malley, ‘‘Introduction,’’ De Ore Domini, p. 1. 5 Nicole Bériou, L’Avènement des maîtres de la parole: La Prédication à Paris au e siècle, 2 vols., Collection des études augustiniennes: Serie moyen âge et temps modernes 31–32 (Paris, 1998), 1:130, notes that 4000 sermons in about 40 collections exist for thirteenth-century Parisian preaching alone. 6 Bataillon, ‘‘Approaches,’’ pp. 24–30.

      

15

tories generally ignored unpublished sermons, and this was their essential weakness.7 A more careful focus on texts made it possible to trace with greater conﬁdence the structural developments in preaching from the patristic period to the late Middle Ages.8 But by the late 1980s the diversity of sermon forms and the vast quantity of unedited material led the editors of a major overview of the state of the discipline to say: ‘‘It is clear from the work done and ongoing in the ﬁeld of sermon studies that a single specialist in one area may no longer be able to write a good general history.’’9 It has also become increasingly more diﬃcult to write a general history of preaching because we are now more conscious of the diﬃculty of moving from static written texts to the oral event of preaching. As Nicole Bériou has recently emphasized, students of medieval sermons are now convinced that the medieval sermon must be approached as a ‘‘word’’ ( parole), something spoken and heard.10 This approach understands preaching as a medium of communication, an interaction between preacher and hearers, and as a social phenomenon in itself.11 The conception of preaching as a ‘‘word’’ suggests that the study of preaching will become more closely connected to the study of catechetics, lectures, and even spiritual conversations. Following the happy suggestion of a recent observer of the discipline, preaching studies are broadening into the 7

As noted in De Ore Domini, pp. xii–xiii. O’Malley, ‘‘Introduction,’’ De Ore Domini, pp. 1–11, provides a concise overview of this development, and ﬂags the methodological and source issues that confront the scholar who wishes to move beyond sermon texts to what preaching meant in practice. 9 De Ore Domini, p. xiii. 10 Nicole Bériou, ‘‘Conclusion: La Parole du prédicateur, objet d’histoire,’’ in La Parole du prédicateur:  e– e siècle, ed. Rosa Maria Dessì and Michel Lauwers, Collection du Centre d’études médiévales de Nice 1 (Nice, 1997), pp. 479–88 [hereafter La Parole]. She ﬂags as seminal studies in this process: Jean Longère, Oeuvres oratoires des maîtres parisiens au  e siècle: Étude historique et doctrinale, 2 vols. (Paris, 1975); Michel Zink, La prédication en langue romane avant 1300 (Paris, 1976); Carlo Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa e l’antica predicazione volgare (Florence, 1975); David L. d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars: Sermons Diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985); the essays included in LouisJacques Bataillon, La Prédication au e siècle en France et Italie (Aldershot, 1993); Hervé Martin, Le Métier de prédicateur en France septentrionale à la ﬁn du Moyen Age, 1350–1520 (Paris, 1988); and the essays collected in Modern Questions and in Dal pulpito alla navata: La predicazione medievale nella sua recezione da parte degli ascoltatori (secc. –) [hereafter Dal pulpito], Convegno Internazionale di Storia Religiosa in memoria di Zelina Zafarana, Medioevo e rinascimento 3 (Florence, 1989). 11 Perhaps pivotal in the idea that preaching and its written texts were best understood as a ‘‘communication medium’’ was David L. d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars: Sermons Diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985). 8

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study of what sixteenth-century Jesuits called ‘‘the ministry of the word’’ the spoken communication of Christian truth generally.12 The same author remarked: ‘‘The greatest challenge to its interpreter is to overcome the written and static nature of the evidence . . . to arrive at a better understanding of a reality that was oral and ﬂeeting.’’13 Our knowledge of an oral medium is limited by the ephemeral nature of the spoken word. Most sermons went unrecorded, and we might wonder how often preachers actually consulted the sermon tools in circulation.14 Already in the late 1970s, it had become obvious that the immense trove of unedited sermon texts for thirteenth-century Paris included not only edited sermons and autograph sermon notes, but also stenographic reports of actual performances–reportationes.15 The wealth of texts for Paris far outstripped that for other areas of Europe and allowed the possibility of comparing autograph, stenographic, and published versions of the same sermon.16 By 1990 the editing and analysis of reportationes had come to the fore in sermon studies, and comparison between published and stenographic versions of the same sermon hinted at the transformations that occurred in the passage from author’s composition to oral delivery to edited text. Reportatio studies not only highlighted the shift from oral to written, but also reversed our usual perspective on sermons: the reporters were hearers, and thus their product revealed to us what they thought they heard rather than what the preacher thought he was saying. Nicole Bériou’s massive and fundamental L’Avènement des maîtres de la parole gives us some idea of what reportatio studies can and cannot accomplish.17 The preponderance of reportationes at Paris 12

O’Malley, ‘‘Introduction,’’ De Ore Domini, p. 4.

Ibid., p. 2.

14 Not often, was the opinion of one scholar of late medieval English preaching:

H. Leith Spencer, English Preaching in the Late Middle Ages (Oxford, 1993), p. 18. 15 Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘La predicazione dei religiosi mendicanti del secolo  nell’Italia centrale,’’ Mélanges de l’École française de Rome 89 (1977) [repr. Le Prédication au e siècle, art. ], 691–93. 16 The conference papers in Dal pulpito alla navata are dedicated almost totally to the study of reportationes. See, in particular, Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Reportatio,’’ Dal pulpito, pp. 7–36, on the genre, and Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Sermons rédigés, sermons réportés (e siècle),’’ Dal pulpito [repr. La Prédication au e siècle, art. ] pp. 69–86, esp. 75–77, where an autograph and a reportatio are placed in parallel columns and analyzed. 17 Nicole Bériou, L’Avènement des maitres de la parole: La Prédication a Paris au e siècle, 2 vols., Collection des études augustiniennes: Serie moyen âge et temps modernes 31–32 (Paris, 1998). 13

      

17

were the work of professionals or university students, and represent the perception of a very particular, theologically literate, audience.18 Reportationes expose the improvisation, alternative development, and ﬂexibility of preaching as an oral event,19 but they remain written texts. According to Bériou, in a reportatio, ‘‘La langue des prédicateurs, il est vrai, perd de sa fraîcheur et de son authenticité.’’20 Nonetheless, we are still far closer to the actual oral event than ever before. That reportationes are themselves sometimes ‘‘macaronic’’, a mixture of Latin and vernacular, reminds us of another problematic presented by written texts as a window on the preached word. Outside of sermons to the clergy, medieval preaching was virtually always in the vernacular. Roberto Rusconi has highlighted the bilingualism of reporting: a preacher moved from Latin texts, the Bible and his notes, to a vernacular preached word, which the reporter took down, usually in Latin shorthand.21 The reportatio itself could then be edited into more literary Latin to provide a ﬁnal version. Sermon texts masque not only a motion from oral to written, but often another from one language to another. Recent studies have begun to explore the transition from Latin to vernacular, as reportatio studies did the transition from text to orality. The rich corpus of Italian sermons by Jordan of Pisa can be compared with his Latin sources and preaching tools.22 Similar work has also been done for late medieval England, where vernacular versions of extant Latin sermons and vernacular sermons dependent on Latin preaching tools allow similar analysis of the translation process.23 There, surprisingly, we ﬁnd vernacular sermons that are more complex than their Latin models.24 The rich vernacular literature of the

18 So perhaps the hope of David d’Avray, ‘‘Method,’’ 9, that Bériou’s (then) forthcoming work would give ‘‘a fair idea’’ of routine preaching was somewhat optimistic. 19 Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:107. 20 Ibid., 1:290–91. 21 Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘La predicazione: Parole in chiesa, parole in piazza,’’ Lo spazio letterario del medioevo : Il medioevo latino (Roma, 1992), 2:571–72. 22 Analyzed with insight and care in Carlo Delcorno, ‘‘La predicazione volgare in Italia (sec. –): Teoria, produzione, ricezione,’’ Revue Mabillon 65 (1993), 83–107. 23 Spencer, English Preaching; Sigfried Wenzel, Macaronic Sermons: Bilingualism and Preaching in Late-Medieval England (Ann Arbor, 1994); and Alan J. Fletcher, Preaching, Politics and Poetry in Late-Medieval England (Dublin / Portland OR, 1998). 24 Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 118–33, esp. 127, and 252–54, where the vernacular and Latin versions of a sermon are compared structurally.

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 , 

Anglo-Saxons has allowed us to see the translation process going on in the early Middle Ages, since we can compare their poetic vernacular ‘‘sermons’’ with patristic models.25 But even when we have a vernacular report of a vernacular sermon, the written version remains at a distance from the oral event. Simultaneous to these pioneering textual studies, scholars began to call attention to the relation between the preacher and his hearers. They looked beyond verbal communication, the ‘‘word’’ of the sermon, which might not have been heard and understood by the audience, to the preacher’s activity as a message in itself. They asked how participation in the event of a sermon transformed the hearers. It is perhaps no surprise that the scholars most interested in these questions were those interested in preachers from whom no written sermons remained, for example, the French hermit-preachers of the eleventh and twelfth centuries.26 Studies on these men focused on the environment that surrounded them: audience relations and expectations, appeal to women, and peacemaking. Scholars drew mostly on narrative, hagiographic, sources. The importance of miracles in the hagiography suggested their importance to the hermit-preacher’s persona and consequently to sermons themselves.27 In essence, these studies saw preaching ﬁrst of all as a network of human relations and only secondarily as a ‘‘word’’ or communication medium. They reconﬁgured the communication link between ‘‘pulpit and nave’’ as a social one.The transaction between speaker and hearers seemed ever more important, yet more illusive than ever.28 Where previous studies focused on the communicated 25 For example, comparing Cynewulf ’s treatment of Enoch and Elijah in Christ  and his source, a sermon by Gregory the Great, see Eugene A. Green, ‘‘Enoch, Lent, and the Ascension of Christ,’’ De Ore Domini, p. 13. 26 Older general narratives: J. von Walter, Die ersten Wanderprediger Frankreichs (Leipzig, 1903); E. Werner, Pauperes Christi (Leipzig, 1956); important biographical studies: J. Dalarun, L’Impossible saintété: La Vie retrouvé de Robert d’Arbrissel (v. 1045–1116), fondateur de Fontevraud (Paris, 1985); J. von Moolenbroek, Vital l’ermite, prédicateur itinérante del l’abbaye normande de Savigny (Assen-Maastricht, 1990); and synthetically: H. Leyser, Hermits and the New Monasticism: A Study of Religious Communities in Western Europe, 1000–1150 (London, 1984). Most recently, see Patrick Henriet, ‘‘Verbum Dei Disseminando: La Parole des ermites prédicateurs d’après les sources hagiographiques (e–e)’’, in La Parole du prédicateur, ed. Rosa Maria Dessì and Michel Lauwers, Collection du Centre d’études médiévales de Nice 1 (Nice, 1997), pp. 153–85, esp. 154–55 on the state of studies. 27 Ibid., p. 175. 28 For example: Zelina Zafarana, ‘‘La predicazione francescana,’’‘ Francescanesimo e vita religiosa dei laici nel ’200 (Assisi, 1981), p. 250, wrote: ‘‘molta strada resta da percorrere per

      

19

‘‘word’’ itself, by the 1990s focus was on the triad of preacher-sermon-public.29 In 1979 the eﬀect of the communication medium of the word on its hearers was the topic of a round table at the École Française de Rome.30 This inaugurated a period of intense concern over audience reception of homilies.31 No major study of the last twenty years has been able to ignore the problem of audience reception and internalization.32 The eﬀects of routine sermonizing, in contrast to the performances of electrifying revivalists, proved hardest to track.33 Some students of ‘‘routine preaching’’, noting the repetitive structure and content of sermons and the almost total absence of evidence for active reception by hearers, construed preaching as a ‘‘ritual activity,’’ community-forming, perhaps, but lacking in communicative content.34 Diﬀerent varieties of preaching suggest different speaker-audience relations, and it has become obvious that particular studies of diﬀerent forms of preaching must ground conclusions about audience reception. Perhaps no generalizations are possible. One result of the contrasts among diverse forms of preaching is a greater sense that sermons are simultaneously a ritual and a communication medium, and that even ritualized activities are a form of communication. attingere, in qualche misura almeno, il rapporto fra pulpito e navata.’’ Quoted by Mariano d’Alatri. ‘‘Pulpito e navata nella Cronaca di fra Salimbene,’’ Salimbeniana, Atti del Convegno per il  Centenario di Fra Salimbene, Parma 1987–89 (Bologna, 1991), p. 76. 29 A model advocated by Martine de Reu, ‘‘Divers chemins pour étudier un sermon,’’ in De l’homelie au sermon: Histoire de la prédication médiévale, ed. Jacqueline Hamesse and Xavier Hermand (Louvain-la-Neuve,1993), pp. 331–40, esp. the summary, p. 331. 30 Published as Faire Croire: Modalités de la diﬀusion et de la réception des messages religieux du e au e siècle, Table Ronde organisée par l’École française de Rome, 22–23 juin 1979 (Rome, 1981). 31 Dessì, ‘‘Introduction,’’ La Parole du prédicateur, pp. 9–10: ‘‘Attentifs aux modalités du ‘faire croire’, les historiens se sont en particulier intéressés au cours des dernières décennies, à la ‘prédication eﬀective’ et à sa ‘réception’ par les ﬁdèles’’. 32 For example: Martin, Le Métier, pp. 549–611, which depends on remarks about reception found in sermons themselves; Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 64–77, who also ransacks sermons, but draws on reactions to sermons recorded in Margery Kempe (ibid. pp. 70–71) and in the Golden Legend (ibid., p. 65); Bériou, L’Avènement, pp. 293–383, investigates the suggestions about reception found in ad status preaching. 33 The issues involved in distinguishing ‘‘ritualized’’ and ‘‘prophetic’’ preaching are examined in Rosa Maria Dessì, ‘‘Introduction: Praedicatores et prophetès,’’ La Parole du prédicateur, pp. 9–19. 34 Especially: Giles Constable, ‘‘The Language of Preaching in the Twelfth Century,’’ Viator 25 (1994), 131–52.

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More generally, our reconstruction of audience reception is impeded by our ignorance of audiences’ mental furniture. Preacher’s use of biblical texts, exempla, contemporary allusions, etc., triggered audience reactions because of common knowledge and experience unknown to us. It is hard to say how a medieval audience ‘‘ﬁlled in the blank spaces between the outlines of a sermon.’’35 How to supply for this defect is not at all clear. Certainly one route is to cast a wider net when analyzing ‘‘reception’’ and place sermons within their concrete social and political context.36 Actions triggered, or not triggered, by sermons are easier to trace when we can match preachers’ prescriptions with contemporary legislation, as has been done for Bernardino da Siena’s programs for sumptuary legislation and the contemporary enactments in cities where he preached.37 But audience reception should not be confused with legislative activity, which is merely one of its outcomes. It is unlikely that we will ever be able to reconstruct the way any single audience internalized and acted on any single sermon. In default, there has arisen a trend toward studying particular forms of preaching and what might be called the ‘‘preaching profession’’ within particular regions and periods. This has proved easiest for phenomena like crusade preaching, where its context (the crusades themselves), its mechanisms (papal sponsorship), its principal practitioners, and its results are already fairly well known.38 The most extensive regional study of preaching to date is Hervé Martin’s Le Métier de prédicateur en France septentrionale à la ﬁn du Moyen Age, 1350–

35 On this central problem, see David L. d’Avray, Death and the Prince: Memorial Preaching before 1350 (Oxford, 1994), pp. 189–98; and his earlier studies, ‘‘Sermons for the Dead before 1350,’’ Modern Questions, pp. 175–93, and ‘‘The Comparative Study of Memorial Preaching,’’ Modern Questions, pp. 195–215. 36 Bernadette Paton, Preaching Friars and the Civic Ethos, Siena 1380–1480 (London, 1992) 211, suggests use of works like David Herlihy and Christiane Klapish-Zuber, Les Toscans et leurs familles: Une Étude du catasto ﬂorentin de 1427 (Paris, 1978). On Paton, see review by Remo L. Guidi, Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 86 (1993), 426–29. 37 Thomas M. Izbicki, ‘‘Pyres of Vanities: Mendicant Preaching on the Vanity of Women and its Lay Audience,’’ De Ore Domini, pp. 211–234, esp. 219-20; who concludes that Bernardino’s program went ignored, while the proposals of Antoninus of Florence fared much better. He is also suggestive on how ‘‘bonﬁres of vanities’’ ritualized audience response to sermons. 38 Cole, Preaching, which is best for the pre-mendicant period; and Christoph Maier, Preaching the Crusades: Mendicant Friars and the Cross in the Thirteenth Century (Cambridge, 1994), which examines the early mendicants.

      

21

1520.39 Examining some 2500 known preachers and over 800 extant sermons throughout a 170 year period, Martin moves from prosopography and textual studies to an analysis of the professionalization of preaching and the interaction of preachers and audiences. He draws on extensive and diverse sources beyond sermon texts and narrative descriptions.40 Other studies, more restricted in scope, have followed a similar histoire totale model.41 The preaching ministry of the Santa Maria Novella Dominicans in the Florentine contado has been reconstructed in astonishing detail.42 Here a wealth of non-sermonic sources allows the reconstruction of preaching’s ‘‘infrastructure’’: the hospitia that sheltered traveling preachers, the usual routes of preaching tours, and material support as reﬂected in communal funding and bequests in wills. A judicious use of the Santa Maria Novella necrologies allows us to measure at least one kind of ‘‘audience response’’ – the number of recruits drawn as a percentage of population and geographical distribution of recruits.These can then be matched against the geography of contado preaching circuits. But recruitment, like legislation, is only a result of audience reception and so a phenomenon beyond the actual event of the sermon. Regional projects will no doubt multiply, in particular for Germany where most sermon studies still possess a close textual focus.43 In spite of the growing sophistication of analysis and our deeper appreciation of the relation of preacher, audience, and event, the sermon texts remain opaque. As David L. d’Avray has remarked it would be very diﬃcult for us moderns to distinguish a ‘‘good’’ medieval sermon from a ‘‘bad’’ one.44 We simply cannot ﬁll in the 39 Costanzo Cargnoni, ‘‘La predicazione alla ﬁne del medioevo,’’ Collectanea franciscana 60 (1990), 311, calls Martin’s book the ‘‘riferimento necessario ed esemplare’’ for future studies of French preaching. 40 For a summary of sources, see Martin, Le Métier, pp. 23–102, esp. 14–16 (his source list). 41 For example: Augustine Thompson, Revival Preachers and Politics in Thirteenth-Century Italy: The Great Devotion of 1233 (Oxford, 1992); Italian ed., Predicatori e politica nell’Italia del  secolo (Milan, 1996). 42 Charles M. de la Roncière, ‘‘Présence et prédication des Dominicains dans le contado ﬂorentin (1280–1350),’’ La Parole du prédicateur, pp. 261–393. 43 See, for example, the essays in Volker Mertens and Hans-Jochen Schiewer, eds., Die deutsche Predigt im Mittelalter, Internationales Symposium am Fachbereich Germanistik der Freien Universität Berlin vom 3.–6., (Tubingen, 1992). It is obvious that most of the studies referred to in this article focus on French, English, or Italian subjects. 44 d’Avray, ‘‘Method,’’ p. 24.

22

 , 

‘‘blanks’’ in the discourse, its silences, the way original hearers did. More broadly, one might wonder if our attempt to ﬁt the oral event of preaching into its social and cultural context is not somewhat backwards. Medieval audiences participated in an oral culture.45 Their social, cultural, religious, and intellectual formation came through oral media. Their culture was itself a ‘‘preaching’’ in the broad sense that we have understood it in this essay. All evidence for the Middle Ages needs to be placed inside that oral society, inside the ‘‘sermon’’ of culture. Having broadly sketched out the methodological movement in preaching studies from text to orality, we now turn to what this means for the use of sources. The principal source for preaching, sermons themselves, has begun to speak in a new way. Creativity in source use, like the growing appreciation of preaching as a transtextual phenomenon is not new. The study of certain types of preaching have long depended on it. Lay preaching, for example, is best known indirectly, from evidence such as the canonical legislation that controlled it.46 In the case of late medieval England, literary sources and spiritual writers like Marjory Kempe have given suggestive glimpses of lay preaching.47 The reconstruction of heretical preaching, such as that of the Cathars, also demanded recourse to unconventional sources.48 Studies of heretical and lay preaching show us the obstacles facing the scholar when sermon texts are lacking. In both cases, scholars must draw on canon law, saints’ lives, court and inquisition records, polemical literature, and scholastic disputations as sources. These often tell us more about changing attempts at regulation and attitudes toward heretics or women than they do about preaching.49 Even when narrative descriptions record sermon content and techniques, as for the Pataria of the Gregorian Reform, the reports sometimes tell us more about the interests of sympathetic or critical 45 As is suggested by Peter Francis Howard, Beyond the Written Word (Florence, 1995), p. 6. 46 Michel Lauwers, ‘‘Predicatio-Exhortatio: L’Église, la réforme et les laïcs (e–e), La Parole du prédicateur, pp. 187–232; and Alcuin Blamires, ‘‘Women and Preaching in Medieval Orthodoxy, Heresy, and Saints’ Lives,’’ Viator 26 (1995), 226. 47 Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 108–18. 48 For one creative attempt, see John Arnold, ‘‘The Preaching of the Cathars,’’ in Medieval Monastic Preaching, ed. Carolyn Muessig, Brill’s Studies in Intellectual History 90 (Leiden, 1998), pp. 183–205. 49 Lauwers, ‘‘Predicatio-Exhortatio,’’ pp. 135–52.

      

23

Catholic clerics than about the lay preachers.50 It has proved easiest to reconstruct heretical preaching for environments where sources are also rich for orthodox preaching; heretics participated in the same culture. For example, the well known preaching scene in thirteenth-century Paris has allowed extrapolation, when interpreting anecdotal and legal references, to what might have been typical of ‘‘Amaurician’’ preaching.51 When the observers of heretical preaching are themselves preachers, e.g. the chronicler Salimbene da Adam or the inquisitor Bernard Gui, their own interest in preaching makes their descriptions richer and more suggestive, if still problematic.52 When we have actual sermons by dissenters, and so can compare heretical and orthodox sermons with security, there are sometimes surprising results.53 New Approaches to Sources We now turn to new developments in the use of what could be called ‘‘traditional’’ sources for medieval preaching. Researchers have long recognized that sermons might provide insights into the cultures in which they were preached. In addition, even in the patristic period, sermons contain self-referential comments on the preacher, the audience’s deportment, and how, when, and where the sermon itself was preached.54 Perhaps no medieval preacher’s sermons are so self-referential as those of Bernardino da Siena, who included autobiographical tidbits about his experiences, how he prepared sermons, and what was on his mind as he entered a city to preach.55 Collections of sermons or reportationes sometimes include references to dates and places from which one may reconstruct the itinerary of a preaching tour.56 Even more valuable for 50

Ibid., pp. 188–91. Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:48–58. 52 See Rusconi, ‘‘La predicazione,’’ pp. 584–90, on the possibilities of such sources. 53 As is the case for the Lollards in England, see Spencer, English Preaching, passim. Here the interesting discovery is the similarity between orthodox and heretical preaching, not the contrast. 54 For examples in the sermons of Origin, Augustine, Caesarius, see Jean Longère, La Prédication médiévale (Paris, 1983), p. 29. 55 Howard, Beyond, p. 145 (drawing on Sermo , Florence: Biblioteca Nazionale, MS Conv. Supp. A.8.1759, fol. 4r); Paton, Preaching, p. 82. 56 As Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:216–27, does for Raoul de Châteauroux. 51

24

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reconstructing preaching campaigns, their forms, and the results are sermon diaries. One ﬁfteenth-century Franciscan included in his sermonary, not only the dates and places, but also the response of his hearers and the length of the sermons when delivered.57 In short, we can read sermons for more than their own written content and form. Preaching tools, long mined for homiletic structure, content, and theory, can occasionally be used to throw light on the event of preaching itself, although to jump from theory to practice can be risky.58 Artes praedicandi are sometimes organized around the three components of a preaching as oral medium (preacher, sermon, hearers) and include observations on how texts might be adapted to particular audiences.59 Secular rhetorical treatises sometimes throw light on preaching, or at least on how academic rhetoricians viewed it.60 Historians of the sermon have long been interested in exempla collections. Exempla continue to be studied for their literary interest and for the hints they give on how abstract ideas were given concrete form.61 They are one place where we feel close to such intangible elements of preaching as humor and local color.62 Like 57 M. Sensi, ‘‘Predicazione itinerante a Foligno nel secolo ,’’ Picenum Seraphicum 10 (1973), 193, and Rusconi, Predicazione e vita religiosa nella società italiana da Carlo Magno alla controriforma (Turin, 1981), pp. 198–99; Howard, Beyond, p. 144, remarks on this diary that the Holy Saturday sermon lasted ﬁve and a half hours. 58 As noted by d’Avray, Preaching of the Friars, p. 178. Although sometimes theory can be matched against actual sermons, as has been done for Humbert of Romans: Simon Tugwell, ‘‘Humbert of Romans’s Material for Preachers,’’ De Ore Domini, pp. 105–17. The artes can be measured against reportationes: Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:143–44. 59 Howard, Beyond, p. 76. 60 As has been done for academic theory and treatises on public speaking in medieval Italy. This can throw light on jargon, e.g., ‘‘magnus concionator’’ as used by Salimbene of Gerard of Modena, Enrico Artifoni, ‘‘Gli uomini dell’assemblea: L’oratoria civile, i concionatori e i predicatori nella società comunale,’’ La predicazione dei frati dalla metà del’200 alla ﬁne del ’300, Atti del  Convegno internazionale, Assisi, 13–15 ottobre 1994 (Spoleto, 1995), p. 173, or on how academics reacted to the ‘‘artless’’ preaching style of Francis of Assisi: ibid., p. 161. 61 Suggestive on use of exempla for making abstract theology concrete is Alan E. Bernstein, ‘‘The Exemplum as ‘Incorporation of Abstract Truth’ in the Thought of Humbert of Romans and Stephen of Bourbon,’’ in The Two Laws: Studies in medieval legal history dedicated to Stephan Kuttner, ed. Laurent Mayali and Stephanie A.J. Tibbetts (Washington DC, 1990), pp. 82–96, esp. 94–96, where Humbert of Romans’ exempla are compared with the Thomistic doctrines they exemplify. 62 See Jeannine Horowitz and Sophia Menache, L’Humour en chaire: Le Rire dans l’Eglise médiévale, Histoire et société 28 (Geneva, 1994), where humorous exempla are studied at length, although more as literary documents than as a window on preached sermons.

      

25

sermons, exempla can be self-referential when their topic is preaching itself. Some exempla focus on the preacher, but the audience is a not uncommon subject. The perspective can be jaundiced,63 but sometimes exempla reproduce hearers’ objections, hesitations, and inattention, and so seem authentic reports of audience reaction.64 Narrative sources, such as chronicles and hagiography, have long served historians of preaching. At their best, they contain vivid descriptions of preachers in action. An event does come alive in narrative, but as a window on medieval preaching narrative descriptions can be problematic. Scholars have remarked that chroniclers, like modern journalists, have an eye for the extravagant, the exceptional, and the unexpected. Narrators love the dramatic and exceptional gesture – such as Robert of Lecce ripping oﬀ his Franciscan habit to reveal a suit of armor during a crusade sermon.65 Narrative sources work best for exceptional revivalists and preaching ‘‘super-stars’’. Hagiographic sources also suﬀer from that genre’s tendency to reduce individual peculiarities to conventional models and to highlight the miraculous.66 It is not surprising that preaching studies dependent on saints’ lives usually suggest that the saint-preacher’s persona was more important than his words, and that sermon content was probably mostly ascetical moralizing.67 Even ﬁrst-hand observers never report the whole event observed, rather they focus on aspects that serve their narrative.This becomes obvious when there are several narratives for a single sermon – e.g. the crusade sermon of Pope Urban  at Clermont, where one must look elsewhere in the search for narrative coherence.68 Still, chronicle and hagiography are sources too rich to be ignored. A chronicler like Salimbene da Adam, for whom preaching was a personal interest, did not restrict his attention to celebrity preachers, and his comments on particular events, individual personalities, sermon length, audience reactions, and even content can illuminate more 63 As in the often repeated exemplum where the devil preaches very well in place of a sick friar because he knows the congregation will ignore the good advice and so doubly damn themselves: Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:133; Howard, Beyond, pp. 91–93. 64 Jacques Berlioz, ‘‘L’Auditoire des prédicateurs dans la littérature des ‘exempla’ (e–e siècles),’’ Dal pulpito, esp. pp. 139–41. 65 Franco Cardini, ‘‘Aspetti ludici, scenici e spettacolari della predicazione francescana,’’ repr. in id., Minima Mediaevalia, Politica e storia 4 (Florence, 1987), p. 189. 66 Henriet, ‘‘Verbum Dei,’’ p. 184. 67 E.g., ibid., pp. 164–70; on content, ibid., pp. 168–69. 68 As attempted by Cole, Preaching, pp. 2–36.

26

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conventional mendicant sermonizers and their preaching.69 Similarly, Salimbene speaks of the preparations and planning that lay behind particular preaching campaigns, something usually invisible in other sources.70 Such is also true of other mendicant chroniclers who had a professional interest in preaching.71 City chroniclers can supply useful information on the recruitment of Lenten preachers and those preachers’ education and background.72 Even descriptions of a celebrity like Francis of Assisi can throw light on what was expected and conventional by remarking on how the saint was exceptional.73 Perhaps the safest narrative witnesses to medieval preaching are remarks made in passing, when the sermon or preacher is not the central focus of the narrative. An abbot’s encouragement to a newly elected prior with Latin too defective to preach in the Chronicle of Bury St Edmunds, Margery Kempe’s oﬀ-hand remarks on what makes a good sermon, and similar reﬂections in Piers Plowman, have all been used to good eﬀect in reconstructing late medieval English preaching.74 Chronicle and hagiographic sources also have pride of place if we want to know how contemporaries categorized styles of preaching or viewed the idiosyncrasies of particular preachers.75 Finally, narrative sources can be the exclusive source for the views of outsiders, as when Jewish chronicles record the reactions of the Jews of the Rhineland to the excesses of vulgar crusade preachers.76

69

On Salimbene, see Mariano d’Alatri. ‘‘Pulpito e navata,’’ pp. 79–80. Ibid., pp. 82–84; see also Thompson, Revival Preachers, pp. 92–93. 71 E.g. Antoninus of Florence in his Summa Historialis, exploited by Howard, Beyond, pp. 232–33. 72 See, for example, the use of the Petit Thalamus chronicle in Jean-Arnault Dérens, ‘‘La Prédication et la ville: Pratiques de la parole et ‘religion civique’ à Montpellier aux e et e siècles,’’ La Prédication en Pays d’Oc: (e–début e siècle), Cahiers de Fanjeaux 32 (Toulouse, 1997), 347–53. 73 As noted by Cardini, ‘‘Aspetti,’’ pp. 188 and 201. 74 Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 91–108. The prior was told to memorize Latin sermons, or even preach in English or French! 75 E.g., Gianfranco Folena, ‘‘In margine ai ‘Sermones’: Stile francescano e stile antoniano,’’ Culture e lingue nel Veneto Medievale (Padua, 1990), pp. 164–66, which delineates what made Antony of Padua diﬀerent from what contemporaries considered typical of early Franciscan preachers; on which, see also Cardini, ‘‘Aspetti,’’ pp. 192–93. 76 Cole, Preaching, pp. 43–45, using a Jewish chronicle (Sefer Zekhirah) in tandem with Christian sources (Annales Sancti Iacobi Leodiensis, Annales Colonienses Maximi and Gesta Abbatum Lobbiensium) and the model of Bernard’s crusade preaching. 70

      

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New Sources for Preaching

Jewish chronicles are certainly an unexpected source for medieval Christian preaching. Nonetheless, they are only one type of evidence that lies beyond sermon texts, preaching tools, and conventional narrative sources. A widening of vision is essential if we are to reconstruct many otherwise indivisible aspects of preaching. Questions about the location and shape of the pulpit, the language of the sermon, the disposition of the congregation, and the connection of the sermon to liturgical events, are notoriously hard to answer.77 In 1983, Jean Longère singled out pastoral legislation like Gregory the Great’s Regula Pastoralis, liturgical sources like Rupert of Deutz and Sicard of Cremona, and municipal statutes as possible supplements to already well exploited hagiographic sources and chroniclers like Jacques de Vitry and Salimbene.78 He merely sounded the possibilities. Since then much has changed. Other potential sources have been identiﬁed and other possibilities probed. Canon law collections, synodalia, papal registers, university cartularies, and anti-heresy treatises have proved essential supplements to sermon texts and narrative sources.79 Recently, scholars have drawn attention to images of preaching in painting and manuscript illumination, although others remain skeptical of their utility. In this section I shall inventory these new sources and evaluate the results of their use. It is surely obvious, if often overlooked, that most medieval sermons had a ritual context. Although not necessarily tied to the readings of the lectionary, preachers observed the liturgical seasons and the festivals of saints. City preachers were invited for seasons like Lent. A revivalist like John of Vicenza in thirteenth-century Italy might celebrate Mass before preaching, and itinerant Franciscans like Anthony of Padua linked preaching to hearing confessions. Liturgical sources have proved useful not merely for establishing context but also for explaining peculiarities in sermons themselves. Liturgical context can suggest reasons for themes and

77

As noted by Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:18. On use of liturgical evidence, see Longère, Prédication médiévale, pp. 171–76; on statute and chronicle evidence, see ibid., pp. 241–46. 79 See the methodological notes in Cole, Preaching, pp. x–xi; and, on university registers and anti-heretical literature, ibid., pp. 67–69. 78

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content, as well as highlighting catechetical functions, like instruction on the Lord’s Prayer and Creed during Lent.80 Liturgical background can also explain doublets and other peculiarities in sermon collections, was when the English Sarum Use prescribed the same gospel for Advent and Palm Sunday.81 As Mariano d’Alatri reminds us, liturgical manuals and chronicles are the best sources for identifying when preachers ceased using the ambo in the choir screen and moved to a pulpit in the nave.82 As liturgical manuals and commentary can provide information on where and when preaching occurred, theological treatises, which might seem scholastic rather than pastoral, can help us understand hidden aspects of preaching, especially when a treatise is linked directly to preaching. Peter of Blois, the secretary to Archbishop Baldwin of Canterbury, wrote a treatise on crusade preaching based on Baldwin’s 1188 preaching campaign. This document has been used to reconstruct the themes and content of Baldwin’s lost sermons.83 It is well known that many, if not most, mendicant preachers were trained in scholastic theology. This theological training not only informed the friars’ preaching tools, but also affected their sermons directly. When, for example, the ﬂow of ideas shows that a preacher was using Thomas Aquinas’s Summa we can examine the changes introduced to accommodate formal theology to pastoral exhortation.84 Perhaps the single most important recent study of scholastic theology and the formation of preachers is M. Michèle Mulchahey’s First the Bow is Bent in Study, which shows how the early Dominicans speciﬁcally crafted their educational system to prepare friars to preach.85This educational system and the Dominican-produced preaching tools and exegesis studied by

80

Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:386–414. Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 28–29. 82 ‘‘Pulpito e navata,’’ p. 76, remarking also that ‘‘pulpit and nave’’ did not present such a contrast by the thirteenth century when the pulpit was generally in the nave on the side. 83 Cole, Preaching, pp. 72–74. 84 For examples, see David d’Avray, ‘‘Sermons on the Dead before 1350,’’ Studi medievali 31 (1990), 512, showing the adaptation of Thomas in funeral sermons; and Paton, Preaching, p. 192, for parallels to the Summa in sermons generally. 85 ‘‘First the Bow is Bent in Study’’: Dominican Education before 1350 (Toronto, 1998), which includes a masterful reconstruction of Thomas’ plan of studies at Rome (pp. 321–36), established by correlating his disputed questions with parallel passages in the Summa. 81

      

29

Mulchahey shows that the scholastic method had closer links to the preached word than one might think. The continuing inﬂuence of theological development on preachers and sermons can also be sought in the library inventories of communities of preachers such as the Franciscans and Dominicans.86 On the other hand, such analysis must be undertaken with caution. Students do not always take away much from their classes, and a book’s presence in a library is no guarantee that it was read. As bookish evidence for the intellectual formation of preachers has proved useful for coaxing out the intellectual furniture presupposed by sermons, institutional records can give us greater insight into the social and cultural world of the preachers. They also illuminate preaching’s institutional context. The cartularies of the University of Paris have proved remarkably useful for identifying the identities of preachers, locations of sermons, character of audiences, and the preaching obligations of those active in the academic community. This source also provides information on how diﬀerent types of reportationes were taken down and, by clarifying jargon (e.g. the meaning of collatio), can provide evidence on the diﬀerent forms taken by the ‘‘ministry of the word’’.87 Paris is an extraordinarily well documented venue, but the institutional records found there are not unique. At Padua, archidiaconal records and other administrative documents of the cathedral chapter, including the Sacrista (recording the expenses of the cult) and the Liber Ordinarius (the ceremonial of the duomo), make it possible to identify the Lenten preachers engaged there in the late Middle Ages.88 Such an inventory, in conjunction with University of Padua records, may found prosopographical studies and show

86 As has been done by Remo Guidi, ‘‘Il pulpito e il palazzo: Temi e problemi nella predicazione dei mendicanti nel 400,’’ Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 89 (1996), 277–78, who tests humanist criticism of the ignorance of Franciscan preachers with their libraries, using W. K. Humphreys, The Library of the Franciscans of the Convent of St. Anthony, Padua, at the Beginning of the Fifteenth Century (Amsterdam, 1966); and id.The Library of the Franciscans of Siena in the Late Fifteenth Century (Amsterdam, 1978). 87 Jacqueline Hamesse, ‘‘Le prédication universitaire: Éloquence sacrée, éloquence profane?’’ Ephemerides Liturgicae 105 (1991), 284–89, treating the Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis. 88 Donato Gallo, ‘‘Predicatori francescani nella cattedrale di Padova durante il quattrocento,’’ Predicazione francescana e società veneta nel quattrocento: Committenza, ascolto, ricezione, Atti del  Convegno internazionale di studi francescani, Padova, 26–27–28 marzo 1987 (Padua, 1995), pp. 150–58.

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how tastes in Lenten preaching changed over time. In Florence, necrologies and religious order records have proved both useful and treacherous as prosopographical sources.89 One might probe further in the same direction, looking at renovation expenses for churches and public spaces. These sometimes tell us about how physical surroundings, e.g. the piazza in front of Santa Maria Novella, were restructured to facilitate preaching. Such architectural reconstructions will doubtless have implications for the physical relations between a preacher and his audience, as well as for those among the members of that audience.90 A number of recent studies have shown canon law sources, including particular legislation, decretal collections, and religious order statutes, to be a far more valuable resource for sermon studies than one might imagine. For the Carolingian period, when extant sermons are almost entirely monastic, the Admonitio Generalis of 879 and other particular legislation have provided both a context to sermonaries and some hints at what may have been preached to the laity in that period.91 For the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, legal sources have helped provide context for lay preaching. In conjunction with hagiography, the development of laws regulating lay preaching help trace positive and negative reactions to its existence, if not its content.92 For content, the rise and fall of the academic canonical distinction between ‘‘preaching’’ and ‘‘exhortation’’ ( predicatio-exhortatio) does suggest what jurists, at least, thought was suitable content for lay preaching. Juridical developments also reveal the growing hostility to lay preaching during the thirteenth century as canonists slowly abandoned the distinction.93 Francis of Assisi, a lay preacher himself, had a profound impact on his follow-

89 De la Roncière, ‘‘Présence et prédication,’’ pp. 369–91, successfully uses the Santa Maria Novella necrology. Daniel C. Lesnick, Preaching in Medieval Florence: The Social World of Franciscan and Dominican Spirituality (Athens GA, 1989), must be judged unsuccessful; see the review in Journal of Religion 71 (1991), 261–64, where the source’s interpretative pitfalls are explained. 90 One might say, with Howard, Beyond, pp. 85–86, that ‘‘the shape of Florence reﬂects its preached culture’’. 91 Thomas L. Amos, ‘‘Preaching and the Sermon in the Carolingian World,’’ De Ore Domini, pp. 41–60, esp. 42, 46; although Amos admittedly ﬁnds liturgical sources more suggestive. 92 See, for example, John M. Trout, ‘‘Preaching by the Laity in the Twelfth Century,’’ Studies in Medieval Culture 4 (1973), 92–108. 93 See Lauwers, ‘‘Predicatio-Exhortatio,’’ pp. 211–22.

      

31

ers’ understanding of preaching. As John W. O’Malley has remarked, Francis’ ‘‘extraordinarily inﬂuential statements about preaching were made in a document that at ﬁrst glance would seem to have nothing to do with preaching’’: the Franciscan Rule itself.94 Here, a legal source provides the single clearest exposition of how Francis and his early followers conceived of preaching. This source, along with hagiography and other autobiographical fragments, have allowed the reconstruction of non-verbal aspects of the Poverello’s preaching and given us some idea of its favor and impact on hearers.95 Turning to sermon content, it is now clear that many, if not most, patristic quotations and references in high medieval sermons came, not from the Fathers themselves, but from Gratian’s Decretum or from the fourth book of the Lombard’s Sentences, which depends on it.96 Similarly, preaching against heresy or, in the late Middle Ages, witchcraft, is usually informed by the legal treatment of those crimes.97 For the high Middle Ages, especially, legislation has provided invaluable glimpses of the forms and content of ‘‘routine preaching’’. We do not have sermons preached by ordinary parish priests, but we do have synodalia giving instructions on them. For inﬂuence on preaching, no legislation matches that of Eudes of Sully at Paris (1205), which was later incorporated into the enactments of at least eleven synods and the legislation of at least nine bishops. Eudes’s legislation deals principally with preaching by parish clergy and requires regular catechetical sermons on the Pater Noster, the Ave, and the Creed.98 We can also trace how subsequent general legislation, such as the Fourth Lateran Council, led to requirements that parish priests preach on the Easter duty and

94

In ‘‘Introduction,’’ De Ore Domini, p. 7. Cardini, ‘‘Aspetti,’’ pp. 187–210; see esp. the use of Francis’ Rule, Testament, and letters, ibid., pp. 193–96. 96 Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Les Instruments de travail des prédicateurs,’’ Culture et travail intellectuel dans l’Occident médiéval (Paris, 1981) [repr. Le Prédication au e siècle, art. ] p. 199. 97 For Bernardino’s sermons against witchcraft, see Paton, Preaching, pp. 295–300, which depends almost exclusively on A. Kors and E. Peters, Witchcraft in Europe, 1100–1700: A Documentary History (Philadelphia, 1972), for legal evidence. More could be done here. 98 Jean Longère, ‘‘La Prédication d’après les statutes synodaux du Midi au e siècle,’’ La Prédication en Pays d’Oc: (e–début e siècle), Cahiers de Fanjeaux 32 (Toulouse, 1997) pp. 269–71. 95

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preparation for communion, and eventually to provisions for preaching on the articles of faith, the decalogue, marriage, and the other sacraments.99 When carefully scrutinized, a work like Maurice de Sully’s Manuale throws light on non-textual aspects of preaching. He directed preachers to shorten the sermon when the weather is too hot or cold and to correct popular errors (e.g. that candle blessings can replace absolution). As evidence for audience reception, this text also single’s out preachers’ topics that were received with hostility or hesitation (e.g. prohibitions on usury and fornication).100 How Maurice’s directives played out in practice is diﬃcult to say, given the absence of parochial sermons from the thirteenth century. Later, in England with Arundel’s 1407 Constitutions and Wolsey’s York 1518 Constitutions, the impact of legislation on parish preaching can be traced in extant sermons.This late medieval legislation shows a clear descent from thirteenth-century pastoral syllabuses, such as those of Pecham and Grosseteste.101 Canonists themselves inﬂuenced preaching by way of their penitential manuals, especially through their tables of vices and virtues and their moral analysis.102 When we turn from canonical to secular laws, these can provide the social and political context of sermons and suggest attitudes toward preaching.103 City records in both Italy and France show that preaching promoted civic identity. In the later Middle Ages it became common for cities to recruit and pay preachers for service

99

Ibid., pp. 271–74. Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:24–26; she also reviews Peter the Chanter’s criticism of sermon defects, ibid., pp. 32–33. 101 Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 163–216. 102 Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Prédication des séculiers aux laïcs au e siècle de Thomas de Chobham à Randulphe de la Houblonnière,’’ Revue des sciences philosophiques et théologiques, 74 (1990) [repr. La Prédication au e siècle, art. ], pp. 457–65, esp. 458–61, where Randulphe’s inﬂuence is traced in reportationes, and ibid., pp. 258–59, where the Chobham’s is traced through the diﬀusion of his Summa de Arte Praedicandi and Summa Confessorum. Chobham’s Summa also inﬂuenced French synodalia and the Frederico Visconti’s legislation in Pisa. 103 Bernadette Paton, ‘‘Una città faticosa: Dominican Preaching and the Defense of the Republic in Late Medieval Siena,’’ in City and Countryside in Late Medieval and Renaissance Italy: Essays Presented to Philip Jones, ed. Trevor Dean and Chris Wickham (Ronceverte WV, 1990) 109–23, which places ﬁfteenth-century Sienese sermons within their political context, or Thompson, Revival Preachers, pp. 136–204, which discusses the impact of preachers on thirteenth-century north Italian politics. 100

      

33

during Lent and other seasons.104 This practice soon become institutionalized, a process that has been traced from the ﬁnancial records of French cities, and reﬂects what has been called the ‘‘professionalization’’ of the preacher’s oﬃce.105 Once institutionalized, sermon series became a civic ritual in which municipal oﬃcials participated.106 The linkage with civic pride provoked frenzied searches for star preachers who would reﬂect glory on the city and spawned negotiations years ahead of time.107 Cities fortunate enough to have produced a famous preacher can also be seen seeking other stars to celebrate the native son after his death.108 The study of the preacher in literature, especially in satire, has a long history and need not detain us. Fiction often tells us more about the writer’s dislike of preachers and sermons than it does of actual individuals and performance. Literary sources are not, however, sterile. Parodies of sermons, by their stereotypical forms, do give some idea of what an audience expected to hear.109 In humanist criticism one can ﬁnd concrete details that go beyond mere stereotype. Nor are all humanist responses negative, some comment positively on certain aspects of contemporary preaching.110 Perhaps the most important recent literary studies of preaching trace the comparative development of exempla and their literary parallels in Dante and, particularly, Boccaccio.111 I have left till last what is perhaps the most problematic, yet potentially fruitful, of the new sources for medieval preaching, pictorial representation. For the content of sermons, manuscript illustrations of biblical and classical events serve to ﬂesh out what hearers 104

Dérens, ‘‘La Prédication et la ville,’’ p. 359. Martin, Le Métier, pp. 103–119; and, for Italy, see Gallo, ‘‘Predicatori francescani,’’ pp. 145–83. 106 A phenomenon noted by Dérens, ‘‘La Prédication et la ville,’’ p. 353, in his analysis of a Cérémonial consulaire. 107 See Howard, Beyond, pp. 87–89, who traces the vicissitudes of Florence searching for a star Lenten preacher in 1376. 108 Such as Siena’s attempts to engage Antonio of Rimini to preach the eulogy of Bernardino da Siena, traced in E. Bulletti, ‘‘Predicazioni senesi di frate Antonio da Rimini (documenti inediti),’’ Bullettino senese di storia patria 62 (1955), 206–12. 109 As noted by Bériou, L’Avènement, 1:196–212. Although others have been skeptical about such moves from parody to event, e.g., Fletcher, Preaching, pp. 249–51, on the Pardoner’s sermon in Chaucer. 110 As noted by Guidi, ‘‘Il pulpito,’’ pp. 268–76. 111 See, above all, Carlo Delcorno, Exemplum e letteratura: Tra Medioevo e Rinascimento (Bologna, 1989). 105

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 , 

would have imagined when sermons recounted famous stories or spoke of individuals using biblical or classical images.112 Artistic motifs and models as a window into hearers’ visualizations remain relatively unexploited. Turning from text to event, Roberto Rusconi has been at work on images of preaching and preachers since the early 1990s.113 The obstacles to using such images, however, are not trivial. Chiara Frugoni has ﬂatly stated that they never show us ‘‘una vera predica.’’114 Images focus on civic monuments and spaces; the audience consists of only a handful of symbolic hearers. In short, the sermon of the image-makers is merely a frame for the saint or apostle portrayed. Frugoni suggests that the medieval Church was uncomfortable with images of actual sermons, preferring instead idealized presentations of correct behavior.115 Rusconi himself admits that images of preaching are principally intended to present the preacher as a object of devotion.116 In that, they are mirror image of the satirical representations of preachers that populate medieval literature. Nonetheless, there is enough of the cultural commonplace in images of preaching that they cannot wholly be divorced from reality: a cult image of Vincent Ferrer preaching to Pope Benedict  included the stenographer taking down the reportatio.117 The ﬁrst step toward fruitful use of visual representations requires reconstructing the development of iconography over time. This will give some idea of what is conventional (and so stereotypical) and what is idiosyncratic (and so perhaps taken from life). This kind of history must also treat the literary models used by the painters. Rusconi has traced the iconography of Francis preaching to the birds and Anthony preaching to the ﬁsh from their ﬁrst appearances until the

112 For example, d’Avray, Death and the Prince, pp. 189–200, who draws on images of chivalry; or Longère, Prédication médiévale, pp. 222–24, who supplements images of Jesus as Judge with paintings of the Last Judgment; and Paton, Preaching, p. 127, who suggests the allegorical representations, such as Lorenzetti’s frescos in Siena’s Palazzo Publico, might illuminate sermons on vices and virtues. 113 Called to public attention by d’Avray, ‘‘Method,’’ p. 9, fn. 15. 114 ‘‘L’immagine del predicatore nell’iconograﬁa medioevale (secc. –),’’ Dal pulpito, pp. 287–99. 115 Ibid., pp. 296–99. 116 Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘La Pouvoir de la parole: Representation des prédicateurs dans l’art de la Renaissance en Italie,’’ La Parole du prédicateur, pp. 445–46. 117 Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Reportatio,’’ p. 22.

      

35

late Middle Ages.118 When surveying images of Dominican preachers, Rusconi ﬁnds images detailing the environment of preaching in ways that go beyond hagiographic stereotypes, but even in those cases, preaching remains secondary to the gloriﬁcation of the saint.119 If such caveats are kept in mind, incidental detail in the images may prove useful. In the work of Fra Angelico, for example, preachers, even ancient ones, appear in contemporary garb and place. The layout of the scene, the pulpit, the audience’s dress and deportment, all seem authentically ﬁfteenth-century. The preacher, however, repeats the same static gesture of a raised hand. The images are mute on what we would most want to see, the particularities of an individual preacher in action. Again, near contemporary images of Bernardino da Siena show him in identiﬁable Italian piazze, show the curtain between men and women, and accurately depict his pulpit, complete to the Holy Name plaque.120 It is the furniture of preaching and its geography that is accessible from images, what is missing are the contents of the sermon and the preacher’s delivery.121 Like any single source, images provide neither the royal road nor the perfect source for recapturing the lived event of a sermon. The journey to that reality demands ever more careful reading of all our sources and, above all, a creative imagination to ‘‘ﬁll in the blank spaces’’ of medieval sermons.

118 ‘‘ ‘Trasse la storia per farne la tavola’: Immagini di predicatori degli ordini mendicanti nei secoli  e ,’’ La predicazione dei frati dalla metà del’200 alla ﬁne del ’300, Atti del  Convegno internazionale, Assisi, 13–15 ottobre 1994 (Spoleto, 1995), pp. 407–50. 119 Ibid., pp. 431–37. Rusconi emphasizes that miracle-working is more important, for example, in images of Dominic on the Arca in Bologna. Of an image of Peter Martyr preaching in Florence, he writes, ibid., p. 438, ‘‘Malgrado al rappresentazione si riferisse ad una predica eﬀectitiva solamente allo scopo di localizzare nello spazio e nel tempo il veriﬁcarsi di un portento operato per intercessione del santo.’’ 120 Rusconi, ‘‘La pouvoir,’’ pp. 447–50. 121 Ibid., pp. 455–56.

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 ,  Select Bibliography

Amos, Thomas L, Eugene Green and Beverly Mayne Kienzle, eds., De Ore Domini. Preacher and Word in the Middle Ages, Studies in Medieval Culture 27 (Kalamazoo, 1989). Avray, David L. d’, The Preaching of the Friars: Sermons Diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985). Bataillon, Louis-Jacques, La Prédication au e siècle en France et Italie (Aldershot, Eng., 1993). Bériou, Nicole, L’Avènement des maîtres de la Parole: La prédication à Paris au e siècle, Collection des Études Augustiniennes. Moyen Âge et Temps Modernes 31 (Paris, 1998, 2 vols.). Bériou, Nicole and David L. d’Avray, eds., Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons: Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, Biblioteca di Medioevo Latino 11 (Spoleto, 1994). Dal pulpito alla navata: La predicazione medievale nella sua recezione da parte degli ascoltatori (secc. –), Convegno Internazionale di Storia Religiosa in memoria di Zelina Zafarana, Medioevo e rinascimento 3 (Florence, 1989). Delcorno, Carlo, Giordano da Pisa e l’antica predicazione volgare (Florence, 1975). Dessì, Rosa Maria and Michel Lauwers, La Parole du prédicateur:  e– e siècle, Collection du Centre d’études médiévales de Nice 1 (Nice, 1997). Faire Croire: Modalités de la diﬀusion et de la réception des messages religieux du xiie au xve siècle. Table ronde organisé par l’École française de Rome, en collaboration avec l’Institut d’histoire médiévale de l’Université de Padoue (Rome, 22–23 juin 1979), Collection de l’École française de Rome 51 (Rome, 1981). Hamesse, Jacqueline, and Xavier Hermand, eds., De l’homélie au sermon: Histoire de la prédication médiévale (Louvain-la Neuve, 1993). La prédication en Pays d’Oc (e–début e siècle), Cahiers de Fanjeaux 32 (Fanjeaux, 1997). La predicazione dei frati dalla metà del’200 alla ﬁne del ’300, Atti del  Convegno internazionale, Assisi, 13–15 ottobre 1994 (Spoleto, 1995). Longère, Jean, La prédication médiévale (Paris, 1983). —, Oeuvres oratoires de maîtres parisiens au e siècle. Étude historique et doctrinale, Tome : Texte. Tome : Notes (Paris, 1975). Martin, Hervé, Le métier de prédicateur à la ﬁn du Moyen Âge (Paris, 1988). Mertens, Volker and Schiewer, Hans-Jochen, Die deutsche Predigt im Mittelalter. Internationales Symposium am Fachbereich Germanistik der Freien Universität Berlin vom 3.–6. (Tubingen, 1992).

      

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Mulchahey, M. Michèle. ‘‘First the Bow is Bent in Study’’: Dominican Education before 1350 (Toronto, 1998). Predicazione francescana e società veneta nel quattrocento: Committenza, ascolto, ricezione. Atti del  Convegno internazionale di studi francescani, Padova, 26–27–28 marzo 1987 (Padua, 1995). Rusconi, Roberto, ‘‘La predicazione: Parole in chiesa, parole in pizza,’’ Lo spazio letterario del medioevo I: Il medioevo latino (Roma, 1992), 2:571–72. pencer, Helen Leith, English Preaching in the Late Middle Ages (Oxford, 1993). Thompson, ugustine, Revival Preachers and Politics in Thirteenth-century Italy: The Great Devotion of 1233 (Oxford, 1992).

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PART THREE

RHETORIC AND PREACHING

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CHAPTER THREE

THE ARS PRAEDICANDI AND THE MEDIEVAL SERMON Phyllis B. Roberts (The City University of New York, Emerita) First some deﬁnitions: the term ars praedicandi refers to the new rhetoric of preaching which developed in the Middle Ages and drew from a variety of ancient sources, Jewish and classical. The term also refers to the theoretical and practical manuals that were prepared for the instruction of preachers and were supplemented by a variety of ancillary treatises and materials that taken together formed a ‘‘rhetorical system’’ that met the needs of the preachers of the high and late Middle Ages.1 Except for Augustine’s early guide to preaching in Book  of De doctrina christiana (426), there was no rhetoric of preaching until ca. 1200.2 Changes in the orientation of medieval preaching from preaching that was largely clerical to an increased emphasis on the needs of popular audiences required new techniques in the formulation of the sermon. The fresh emphasis on popular preaching gave impetus to the growth of a substantial didactic literature known as artes praedicandi. To the masters of the high Middle Ages, the art of preaching was ‘‘modern’’ and therefore required up-to-date techniques. Preachers needed a forma praedicandi which outlined the choice of theme and various subdivisions of the sermon according to certain conventional rules. The preaching manuals, whose numbers steadily increased in the course of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, became indispensable guides to the preaching art. This essay will examine the emergence of the ars praedicandi as it relates to the history of preaching and preaching techniques to both clergy and laity. I shall include examples from various artes praedi1 James J. Murphy, Rhetoric in the Middle Ages: A History of Rhetorical Theory from St. Augustine to the Renaissance (Berkeley/Los Angeles, 1974), p. 342. 2 Augustinus, De Doctrina Christiana, De vera religione, ed. Kl.-D. Daur and J. Martin, Corpus Christianorum, Series Latina (Turnhout, 1962) 32, pp. 116–67.

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candi which describe the construction of the medieval sermon and the elaborate didactic techniques that were a feature of that era. I shall also touch on, however brieﬂy, the variety of preaching aids that became a part of this new rhetoric of preaching. Along with poetics (ars poetriae) and the theory of letter writing (ars dictaminis), the art of preaching (ars praedicandi) had a prominent place in the development of medieval rhetoric, drawing upon the sources of classical rhetoric which continued to play a signiﬁcant role in medieval intellectual life.3 As one of the liberal arts, rhetoric survived in the medieval manuscripts of some of the chief classical authors; in the writings of Martianus Capella (ﬂ. 410–27), Cassiodorus (†ca.545), Isidore († 636), Alcuin (†804) and others who preserved the general principles and terminology of the ancient rhetoric; in the commentaries on and translations of Cicero (†43 B.C.) (especially his Rhetoric ad Herennium); and in the trivium of the medieval schools and universities. The alliance of rhetoric and law can be seen in its service to the courts and in the development of the ars dictaminis, the art of letter writing and legal administration. The interaction between rhetoric and poetry resulted in the ars poetriae which inﬂuenced various theories of poetry in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The application of rhetoric to preaching helped to create a new rhetoric of preaching called the ars praedicandi. The growth of the preaching art was a gradual one and was enriched by its ancient Jewish and classical sources. By the time of Jesus, the Jewish synagogue service included prayer, scriptural reading and discussion. Jesus’ community was a community accustomed to preaching and early Christianity inherited and continued this ‘‘corporate rhetorical tradition’’. The history of preaching theory thus had its ﬁrst phase in the person of Jesus, in his mandate for preaching and in his use of parables and multiple signiﬁcations. St Paul’s theology of preaching and inﬂuence on the liturgy further underscored the importance of the art of preaching in the early Christian centuries.4 Four major forms of preaching developed in the early Church. 3 See Harry Caplan, ‘‘Classical Rhetoric and the Mediaeval Theory of Preaching,’’ in Of Eloquence: Studies in Ancient and Mediaeval Rhetoric ed. Anne King and Helen North (Ithaca, N.Y., 1970), pp. 105–134. For relevant bibliography on the ars praedicandi, see James J. Murphy, Medieval Rhetoric: A Select Bibliography, Toronto Medieval Bibliographies (Toronto, 1971), pp. 71–81. 4 Murphy, Rhetoric, pp. 269–84 at p. 273.

 ‘ ’    

43

The ﬁrst was the missionary sermon which had its origins in the addresses to Jewish communities and to the unconverted and reﬂected Christianity’s sense of mission to go forth and preach the Gospel. (See Mark 3.14–15 and Matthew 28.16–20.) The second, prophecy, had the biblical prophets as models and was characterized by inspiration and exhortation to the Christian life. A third form, the homily, emphasized the oral interpretation of Scripture and became the mode for Christian oratory in the early Church. Finally, the Christian epideictic or panegyrical sermon, which had no Jewish antecedents, and came into use largely in the fourth century as Christianity became more closely associated with Roman public life.5 It was Augustine (†430) who ‘‘set about recovering for the new generation of Christian orators the true ancient rhetoric’’.6 While Augustine’s precepts on preaching as outlined in Book  of his De doctrina christiana are a ‘‘defense of conventional Ciceronian rhetoric’’,7 Augustine goes beyond Cicero, grounding his rhetoric in Scripture and the Fathers of the Church. ‘‘For Augustine… understanding Scripture requires the tools of both grammar and rhetoric, while transmitting knowledge to others requires a rhetoric based on love as well as evocative skill.’’8 Although Augustine’s treatise was important in establishing a tradition of rhetorical preaching, it did not exert as great an inﬂuence in the early Middle Ages as the more widely read Regula pastoralis of Gregory the Great who was pope from 590–604.9 In what was essentially a treatise on ecclesiastical administration, Gregory commented on the importance of preaching by bishops. While he emphasized the content of sermons, he says virtually nothing about the sermon’s rhetorical qualities. Gregory’s books of moralities and homilies were, however, a rich source of exempla and anecdotes for the medieval preacher. The history of medieval preaching may be seen as the transition from the simple patristic homily to the more complex sermon of the high and later Middle Ages. A simple style characterized early me5 See George A. Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric and its Christian and Secular Tradition from Ancient to Modern Times (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1980), pp. 135–41. 6 Charles S. Baldwin, Medieval Rhetoric and Poetic (to 1400) Interpreted from Representative Works (1928; repr. Gloucester, MA, 1959), p. 52. 7 Murphy, Rhetoric, p. 286. 8 Murphy, Rhetoric, pp. 291–92. 9 Liber regulae pastoralis, PL 77:13–128.

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dieval preaching (especially monastic sermons) and inﬂuenced the form of sermons into the early twelfth century. The theme was drawn from Scripture and was usually based on the daily liturgy. The theme was not, however, followed by the protheme which was a creation of the thirteenth century. Changes in terminology reﬂect this development. Homilia or homily referred to the kind of preaching where a biblical passage, normally read during the Mass, was explained phrase by phrase and was, therefore, a commentary on the gospel of the Mass. The term sermo, or sermon, came into use by the thirteenth century and was applied to the type of preaching where a short quotation, also taken from the liturgy of the day, was divided at length and developed according to the rules of the ars praedicandi. 10 The distinguishing mark of most early medieval preaching was that it was essentially preaching by clerics for audiences of clerics. This is not to say that popular audiences were ignored. Legislation in the Capitularies of Charlemagne (813) called for preaching to the people in the language they would understand.11 More typical of this period, however, was Rabanus Maurus’ (†856) De clericorum institutione (819), a manual for priests which drew on Augustine and Gregory the Great for its precepts on preaching.12 Medieval preaching by the late twelfth and thirteenth centuries shifted its emphasis from preaching that was largely monastic and clerical to the needs of popular audiences. The revival of popular preaching coincided with the widespread development of towns and commerce, schools and universities, and crusades of the 10 Albert Lecoy de la Marche, La chaire française au moyen âge, spécialement au  siècle, 2nd ed. (Paris, 1886) p. 271. On medieval monastic preaching, see Medieval Monastic Preaching, ed. Carolyn Muessig, Brill’s Studies in Intellectual History 90 (Leiden, 1998). On the development of preaching from homily to sermon, see the essays in De l’homélie au sermon. Histoire de la prédication médiévale. Actes du Colloque international de Louvain-la-Neuve (9–11 juillet 1992), ed. Jacqueline Hamesse and Xavier Hermand, Publications de l’Institut d’études médiévales: Textes, Études, Congrès 14 (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1993). For a bibliography of medieval sermon studies, see Thomas N. Hall, ‘‘A Basic Bibliography of Medieval Sermon Studies,’’ in Medieval Sermon Studies 36 (Autumn 1995), 26–42. On the study of medieval sermons, see also Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Approaches to the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ Leeds Studies in English, n.s. 11 (1980), 19–35 and Beverly M. Kienzle and David L. D’Avray, ‘‘Sermons’’ in Medieval Latin: An Introduction and Bibliographical Guide, ed. F.A.C. Mantello and A.G. Rigg, (Washington, D.C., 1996), pp. 659–69. 11 MGH, Legum 1, 14, 190. 12 Rabanus Maurus, De clericorum institutione, PL 107:293–420.

 ‘ ’    

45

Church against enemies from without and heretics from within. Pope Innocent  (†1216), himself a renowned preacher, exempliﬁes an age when the sermon was coming into its own as an eﬀective instrument not only against the enemies of the Church, but also in winning popular support for his plans for reform. The Fourth Lateran Council (1215) emphasized the importance of the preaching oﬃce in its tenth canon, underscoring the bishop’s responsibility to name men suited to fulﬁll the important task of edifying the ﬂock by word and example.13 Pope Innocent’s decision to promote the role of preaching in the Church and to improve the standards of its preachers was in turn eﬀected by successive synodal and provincial statutes after 1215.14 Doctors and masters such as Stephen Langton (†1228), Maurice de Sully (†1196), Peter the Chanter (†1197) and Robert de Courçon (†1219) were involved in this major reform program and directed their interests toward the reinvigoration of Christian teaching.15 Preaching was an essential tool in resisting and opposing heresy and in spreading the ideas of the vita apostolica. Further momentum was given to the importance of popular preaching by the mendicants whose rapid spread through the cities of western Europe in the ﬁrst decades of the thirteenth century may be seen as a continuation and extension of the eﬀort to educate and persuade the laity. By the thirteenth century, therefore, the fresh emphasis on popular preaching, the ties between preaching and the schools, and the need to provide some guidance for preachers coincided with the growth of a substantial didactic and rhetorical literature consisting of treatises known as artes praedicandi. To the masters of the high Middle Ages, contemporary preaching required ‘‘modern’’ techniques. Although the sermon had long been recognized as a major instrument in the Church’s ministry, it was evident that by the thirteenth century, a new attitude of specialization and professiona-

13

Conciliorum Oecumenicorum Decreta (Freiburg, 1962), p. 215. See Phyllis B. Roberts, ‘‘The Pope and the Preachers: Perceptions of the Religious Role of the Papacy in the Preaching Tradition of the Thirteenth-Century English Church,’’ in The Religious Roles of the Papacy: Ideals and Realities 1150–1300, ed. Christopher Ryan (Toronto, 1989) pp. 277–97. 15 See John W. Baldwin, Masters, Princes and Merchants: The Social Views of Peter the Chanter and his Circle, 2 vols. (Princeton, 1970) and Phyllis B. Roberts, Stephanus de LinguaTonante: Studies in the Sermons of Stephen Langton (Toronto, 1968) [hereafter cited as Roberts, Studies]. 14

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lization was emerging toward the fashioning of sermons. Probably the most outstanding example of these changes emerged in the fully developed scholastic sermon, which will be discussed below. The need for a forma praedicandi outlining the choice of theme and various subdivisions of the sermon was met by developments in the ars praedicandi and the production of preaching handbooks, treatises and manuals that responded to the demand to upgrade the standards of preaching to both laity and to clergy, who would in turn preach to the laity. More than three hundred of these artes praedicandi are extant. They date from the thirteenth century to the early ﬁfteenth century and were written in England, France, Italy, Germany, and Spain.16 The ﬁrst examples of such manuals had appeared in the twelfth century. The Benedictine Guibert de Nogent (†1124) intended his Liber quo ordine sermo ﬁeri debeat as a prologue to his commentary on Genesis rather than as a separate work on preaching.17 His remarks on preaching, therefore, are rather general as compared with his more speciﬁc treatment of scriptural interpretation. Yet Guibert shows a familiarity with invention, organization, style, and delivery, reﬂecting an awareness of the ancient rhetorical tradition. The Cistercian Alan of Lille (†1202/1203), on the other hand, represents in his Summa de arte praedicatoria (1199?) another important advance in the development of the genre.18 Alan gives great attention in this work to the use of authorities and to the subject matter to be presented in speciﬁc preaching situations to various audiences which he identiﬁes: soldiers, advocates or oratores, doctors, other prelates, religious, the married, widowed, and virgins. Also included in his treatise are a large number of model sermons. In his use of

16 Murphy, Rhetoric, pp. 275, 332. For a basic bibliography and description of the genre, see Marianne G. Briscoe, Artes Praedicandi and Barbara H. Jaye, Artes Orandi, Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 61 (Turnhout, 1992). There has been some discussion [See David L. D’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars: Sermons Diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985), p. 78.] about how much of a direct inﬂuence preaching manuals had on medieval preachers, since manuscript evidence suggests that most manuals do not appear to have circulated very widely in the Middle Ages. Many also appeared relatively late from the mid fourteenth century and later. The artes praedicandi, nonetheless, represent an important summary of medieval rhetorical practice and serve as useful sources for the purposes of this essay. 17 Guibert de Nogent, Liber quo ordine sermo ﬁeri debeat, PL 156:21–32 and Ad Commentarios in Genesim, PL 156:19–22. 18 Alan of Lille, Summa de arte praedicatoria, PL 210:109–98.

 ‘ ’    

47

subject matter, Alan of Lille shows the strong inﬂuence of Gregory the Great’s Regula Pastoralis, but he has little to say about the organization of sermons or their style.19 ‘‘By the year 1200, then, the Christian Church had produced only four writers who could by any stretch of the imagination be called theorists of preaching: Augustine, Pope Gregory, Guibert de Nogent, and Alain de Lille.’’20 Nor was there a general consensus that the ancient ars rhetorica could serve as a theory of preaching. Medieval preachers did not simply apply principles of Ciceronian rhetoric to their sermons. While a non-theoretical approach apparently met the needs of preaching in the early Middle Ages, between the years 1200–20, a whole new rhetoric of preaching known as the ars praedicandi developed and set into motion what James J. Murphy calls a ‘‘homiletic revolution’’.21 The artes praedicandi that were produced in the wake of this revolution varied in scope and content. Some had as their object a discussion of the moral conduct of the preacher. The Dominican Humbert de Romans’ (†1277) thirteenth-century treatise on preaching, for example, devotes more attention to the conduct of preachers than to the form of preaching.22 Many treatises considered the technique and composition of sermons. Some also gave attention to matters of voice, gesture and delivery. Thus in the fourteenth-century treatise by the English Dominican and Oxford master Thomas Waleys († after 1349), De modo componendi sermones, 23 Waleys urges that the new preacher seek out some place of privacy where he can practice voice and gesture without fear of ridicule. He should preach to trees and stones before he preaches to man. There were also other kinds of materials that comprised this new ars praedicandi. Handbooks of themes, distinctions, authorities, concordances and examples undoubtedly formed a useful reference library for preachers.24 19

Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric, p. 191.

Murphy, Rhetoric, p. 309.

21 Murphy, Rhetoric, p. 310.

22 Murphy, Rhetoric, p. 341.

23 See Thomas Waleys, De modo componendi sermons, in Artes Praedicandi: Contribution à

l’histoire de la rhétorique au moyen âge, ed. Thomas M. Charland, Publications de l’Institut d’études médiévales d’Ottawa 7 (Ottawa and Paris, 1936), pp. 328–403. 24 See Harry Caplan, Mediaeval Artes Praedicandi: A Hand-List, Cornell Studies in Classical Philology 25 (Ithaca, N.Y., 1934) and Caplan, Mediaeval Artes Praedicandi: A Supplementary Hand-List, Cornell Studies in Classical Philology 26 (Ithaca, N.Y., 1936). 20

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How can we account for this extraordinary ‘‘homiletic revolution’’? What were the sources for this direction in medieval preaching? Caplan argued for the inﬂuence of ancient rhetoric on medieval preaching theory and pointed to the importance of the new preaching orders, the spread of mysticism, and the growth of scholasticism.25 Roth regarded William of Auvergne’s Rhetorica divina (thirteenth century) as a turning point in the evolution of a genuinely medieval approach to preaching.26 Charland, on the other hand, emphasized the prime inﬂuence of scholastic method in the emerging ars praedicandi, its close connections with the medieval schools and university preaching where preaching, sermon-making, and the study of Scripture had long been closely linked. Such close ties eventually came to be formalized in the statutes of the university of Paris and other medieval universities that followed Paris’ lead.27 Students in theology had to preach at least once a year and preaching competence was a prerequisite to the granting of the license. Masters who were preachers dealt with the direct instruction of the Christian community, for university regulation explicitly directed that theological masters preach on certain days and in speciﬁed places in the capital. While it is evident that the new thematic sermon mode had close associations with the university and in fact is often called the university style sermon,28 it is also clear that the basic elements of the new approach to preaching were not exclusive to the university but were also available outside the universities before academics took them up and subjected them to the analytical spirit of the thirteenth century. Consider, for example, the works of two authors writing between 1200 and 1250, whose interest in the new form and technique of the sermon anticipate later developments in university thematic 25

Caplan, ‘‘A Late Mediaeval Tractate on Preaching,’’ in Of Eloquence, p. 42. See Dorothea Roth, Die mittelalterliche Predigttheorie und das Manuale curatorum des Johann Ulrich Surgant (Basel and Stuttgart, 1956). 27 See Chartularium universitatis Parisiensis, ed. Heinrich Deniﬂe and E.L.M. Chatelain, 4 vols., (Paris, 1889–97) 2, pp. 1188, 1189 and Phyllis B. Roberts, ‘‘Medieval University Preaching: The Evidence in the Statutes,’’ in Medieval Sermons and Society: Cloister, City, University, ed. Jacqueline Hamesse, Beverly M. Kienzle et al., Publications de l’Institut d’études médiévales: Textes et Études du Moyen Âge, 9 (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1998), pp. 317–28. 28 See Marie-Magdeleine Davy, Les Sermons universitaires parisiens de 1230–1231: Contribution à l’histoire de la prédication médiévale, Études de philosophie médiévale, ed. Etienne Gilson (Paris, 1931). 26

 ‘ ’    

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preaching. Alexander of Ashby’s (an Augustinian house in Northamptonshire), De modo predicandi (ca.1200) set forth a new approach to the form of preaching and introduced a theory of organization embodying ideas of division and proof. Alexander emphasized the use of a standard form to be followed in preaching. The second author was Thomas Chabham or Chobham († between 1233–36, also known as Thomas of Salisbury, master at Paris) whose Summa de arte praedicandi, written between 1210 and 1215, set the art of preaching solidly within the intellectual framework of the late twelfth and early thirteenth century. Thomas Chobham demonstrated the value of the art of rhetoric to the oﬃce of the preacher by showing how the parts of a sermon compared with Roman rhetorical doctrine. His outline for the sermon included the opening prayer for divine aid, the protheme (or antetheme) or introduction of the theme, the theme or statement of a scriptural quotation, division or statement of parts of the theme, the development or prosecutio of the members named in the division, and conclusion.29 By the year 1200, therefore, the elements of the ars praedicandi had been brought together. While Murphy argues that the basic theory of the ars praedicandi was a product of the late twelfth century and not necessarily limited to the schools and universities, there is no doubt that the elaboration of the ars praedicandi lay in the university and by university masters.30 Between 1200 and 1322, when Robert of Basevorn wrote his Forma praedicandi, the future of the ars praedicandi was assured.31 Robert’s treatise was a full treatment of a rhetoric of preaching which would endure into the early modern era to be replaced only by the revival of Ciceronianism in the Renaissance.32 By the fourteenth century, when Robert of Basevorn wrote his Forma praedicandi, the thematic sermon had become the favored

29 Murphy, Rhetoric, pp. 311–326. See Thomas de Chobham, Summa de arte praedicandi, ed. Franco Morenzoni, Corpus Christianorum, Continuatio Mediaevalis 82 (Turnhout, 1988). Also by Morenzoni, Thomas de Chobham, Sermones, Corpus Christianorum, Continuatio Mediaevalis 82A (Turnhout, 1993) and Des écoles aux paroisses. Thomas de Chobham et la promotion de la prédication au début du e siècle, Collection des Études Augustiniennes 30 (Paris, 1995). 30 Murphy, Rhetoric, p. 326. 31 Robert de Basevorn, Forma praedicandi in Charland, pp. 233–323. 32 Murphy, Rhetoric, pp. 343–344.

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form of preaching. Thematic preaching took its name from the way preachers treated scriptural texts or themes as a basis for ampliﬁcation and division. Thomas Waleys set forth the conditions for the selection of the theme: ‘‘The theme should suit the material about which the preacher principally wishes to speak…it should be taken from Scripture…it should be to the point…and it should be accurately quoted.’’33 Having announced his theme, the preacher invited his listeners to pray with him. The section that followed, sometimes called the protheme, or more accurately exordium, served as an introduction to this prayer and frequently contained some topos relating to the preacher’s unworthiness. The exordium concluded with the invocation to prayer, repeated simultaneously by the preacher and the audience of the faithful. There was then a restatement of the theme and its development by use of examples and similitudes. A more complex protheme was introduced in the course of the thirteenth century and became a kind of pre-sermon, with its own introduction relating to the scriptural text, reference to the good preacher, and its own division of the parts of the theme and subsequent conﬁrmation by various authorities. By the close of the thirteenth century, the protheme had become virtually a sermon within a sermon, and the intricacies of the development of the theme illustrate the extent to which the sermon became subject to complex rules of composition, which can be found as late as the seventeenth century in printed English sermons. Thematic preaching was not missionary preaching. It was a preaching of instruction in the meaning of Scripture and was closely linked to exegesis. Preaching manuals thus reﬂected the inﬂuence of a variety of disciplines such as biblical exegesis, scholastic logic and rhetoric.34 Grammar and other liberal arts also made their mark in the ampliﬁcation of the divisions of the theme. In its fully developed form, thematic preaching was a systematic, logical form of preaching in sharp contrast with the relative informality and lack of structure of earlier medieval homilies. The scholastic or university sermon became increasingly complex. Preachers divided the theme to facilitate the organization and presentation of the ser33 Thomas Waleys, De modo componendi sermones: cap. ii De themate assumendo et auctoritatibus allegandis in Charland, pp. 341–49. 34 Kennedy, Classical Rhetoric, pp. 191–92.

 ‘ ’    

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mon. Division of the theme was accompanied by a declaration and conﬁrmation of its parts. Declaration furnished a rational justiﬁcation, i.e., that the division was well-grounded according to reason; conﬁrmation, that such division was well-grounded according to Scripture. Similar procedures were followed by medieval theologians in their exegesis and scriptural commentary, and it is probably no accident that many of the best preachers were also distinguished biblical scholars. The means by which sermons could be developed were rather elaborate by the later Middle Ages.Thomas Waleys indicated three: citation of authorities, arguments, and examples. Robert of Basevorn added digressio, i.e., the marginal development of the principal subject and correspondentia, the comparison of various parts.35 A late medieval tractate on preaching lists these nine methods of expanding a sermon: through concordance of authorities, through discussion of words, through explanation of the properties of things, through a multiplication of senses, through analogies and natural truths, through marking of an opposite, through comparisons, through interpretation of a name, and through multiplication of synonyms.36 The manuals that we have been describing were, for the most part, written in Latin and were principally interested in the form of the sermon and the methods available for developing a theme. By the later Middle Ages, however, there appeared a variety of shorter manuals whose principal concern was examining how one preaches to the ‘‘people’’. Authors such as Geraldus de Piscario, OFM, France (ﬂ.14th century); Francesc Eixemenis, OFM, Spain (†1409); Henry of Hesse, Germany (ﬂ.14th century); Pseudo-Aquinas (before 1500); Christian Borgsleben, OFM, Germany (ﬂ.1450–60); Martin of Cordova, OSA, Spain (ﬂ.15th century); and Simon Alcock, England (†1459) provide ‘‘the ﬁrst attributable examples of manuals written outside the inﬂuence, and in many cases outside the precincts of English and Parisian universities’’.37 Manuals of the 35

See Charland, p. 195 and pp. 213–14. See H. Caplan, ‘‘The Four Senses of Scriptural Interpretation and the Mediaeval Theory of Preaching,’’ in Of Eloquence, p. 94. 37 Briscoe, Artes Praedicandi, p. 43. On Geraldus de Piscario, see F.M. Delorme, ‘‘L’Ars Faciendi Sermones de Geraud du Pescher’’ in Antonianum 19 (1944), 169–98; on Henry of Hesse and the Pseudo-Aquinas tract, see H.Caplan, ‘‘‘Henry of Hesse’ on the Art of Preaching,’’ in Of Eloquence, pp. 135–59. 36

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ﬁfteenth century increasingly addressed the needs of preaching to the people and issues of vernacular preaching style.38 The manuals of the artes praedicandi were one of several resources available to a preacher. A wide variety of preaching aids were also developed from the late twelfth and thirteenth century on, and together with the aforesaid manuals form what Murphy called the ‘‘rhetorical system’’ of the ars praedicandi. These include Scripture with its glosses; collections of exempla, ﬂorilegia, distinctiones, and similitudines, concordances, alphabetical lists and topic charts to locate materials; and collections of model sermons.39 The subject is a vast one, but I shall, in the next part of this essay, try to touch on some of these techniques and describe, with a few selected examples, how these ﬁt into the story of the ars praedicandi and the medieval sermon. The study of the exemplum has had a long and rich history in the scholarship of medieval preaching. Thomas Welter’s classic study, published in 1927, traces the origin and development of the genre through the high Middle Ages to the ﬁfteenth century. Exempla historiography has been enriched by subsequent studies such as Tubach’s Index exemplorum (1969) and L’Exemplum (1982), a collaborative eﬀort by Claude Bremond, Jacques Le Goﬀ, and JeanClaude Schmitt which reﬂects the scholarship that has emerged from the deliberations of the Paris interdisciplinary seminar on medieval exempla.40 The appearance of the exemplum as a separate genre 38

Briscoe, Artes Praedicandi, p. 61. Murphy, Rhetoric, pp. 342–343. For an example of a manuscript that contains sermons as well as a collection of unusual exempla, ﬂorilegia, and numerous other aids to preaching, see Mary E. O’Carroll, A Thirteenth-Century Preacher’s Handbook: Studies in MS Laud Misc. 511 (Toronto, 1997). Additional thirteenth-century examples are discussed in Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Similitudines et exempla dans les sermons du e siècle,’’The Bible in the Medieval World: Essays in Memory of Beryl Smalley, ed. Katherine Walsh and Diana Wood (Oxford, 1985), pp. 191–205. For excellent summaries of material relating to preaching aids (sermon collections, ﬂorilegia, exempla, and artes) see M. Michèle Mulchahey, ‘‘First the bow is bent in study. . .’’ Dominican Education before 1350 (Toronto, 1998), pp. 400–79; and on the tools for biblical exegesis, pp. 480–526. Mulchahey (pp. 185–88) also cites the example of the Florentine preacher Jacopo Passavanti who was praedicator in conventu at Santa Maria Novella from 1340–41 and who probably compiled a sermonary which was no ordinary sermon collection but was designed as a teaching text, oﬀering notes on ways of interpreting the theme and discussion of the possible use of the sermon material. While all sermon collections were intended as teaching texts, what sets Passavanti’s sermonary apart is his direct approach to the reader, oﬀering his opinion on a particular approach he favors and how it can be modiﬁed. 40 See J.-Th. Welter, L’exemplum dans la littérature religieuse et didactique du moyen âge, 39

 ‘ ’    

53

ca.1170–1250 parallels the emergence of universities and the systematization of preaching techniques. The history of the exemplum is therefore intimately tied to developments in the ars praedicandi since exempla furnished preachers with plentiful raw materials for their sermons. The term itself was adopted by theologians from classical works on rhetoric. Quintilian († ca.118) wrote a full chapter on exempla.41 The classical world had in turn inherited the genre from ancient oriental peoples whose parables, tales, legends, and fables frequently appear in later exempla. As Greco-Roman sources became Christianized, the early Church fathers soon recognized and adopted exempla for the use of instruction and pedagogy.42 Ambrose (†397) wrote in his commentary on  Corinthians that ‘‘exempla are more persuasive than words alone’’.43 Augustine drew on exempla from various sources in his sermons;44 Pope Leo the Great (†462) especially recommended the Acta Martyrum as a source for hagiographic exempla;45 and Pope Gregory the Great’s homilies and dialogues won for him the title ‘‘Father of the Exemplum in Eu-

Bibliothèque d’histoire ecclésiastique de la France (Paris, 1927) and his La Tabula Exemplorum secundum ordinem alphabeti: Recueil d’exempla compilé en France à la ﬁn du e siècle (Paris, 1926). Frederic C. Tubach’s Index Exemplorum: A Handbook of Medieval Religious Tales, Folklore Fellows Communications 204 (Helsinki, 1969), an index of 5400 themes of exempla is, however, diﬃcult to use. There are also important omissions which justify the publication of supplements to the index. On this see Jacques Berlioz and Marie-Anne Polo de Beaulieu, eds., Les exempla médiévaux: Introduction à la recherche, suivie des tables critiques de l’Index exemplorum de Frederic C. Tubach (Paris, 1992). The Typologie volume, L’’Exemplum’, ed. Claude Bremond, Jacques Le Goﬀ, and Jean-Claude Schmitt, Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 40 (Turnhout, 1982) contains three sections: 1) on the medieval exemplum including bibliography on editions and collections; 2) on the structure of the exemplum in Jacques de Vitry; and 3) on the role of the exemplum in the sermon. For a collection of sources that illustrate the history of the exemplum and a survey of exemplum historiography, see Prêcher d’exemples: Récits de prédicateurs du moyen âge, ed. Jean-Claude Schmitt (Paris, 1985). Among the more recently published scholarly editions is Jean Gobi, La scala Coeli, ed. Marie-Anne Polo de Beaulieu, Sources d’Histoire Médiévale (Paris, 1991), a book of 1000 exempla composed in the years 1327–30 by the Dominican Jean Gobi Junior. 41 For an analysis of Quintilian’s Institutio oratoria written about 92 A.D., see Murphy, Rhetoric, pp. 22–26. 42 L’’ Exemplum’ (Typologie), p. 48. 43 Commentarius in epistolam ad Corinthios , PL 17:236, 254. Exempla subjicit, ut facilius suadeat, quia cui verba satis non faciunt, solent exempla suadere. . .quoniam exempla facilius suadent quam verba, exemplis commendat per quae facilius assequantur. 44 See, e.g., Augustinus, Sermones, PL 39:1568–81. 45 See Acta Martyrum, In natali s.Laurentii, PL 54:435.

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rope’’.46 Gregory’s Dialogues in fact constituted one of the early exempla collections for the use of preachers.47 The medieval exemplum also bore the inﬂuences of the monastic milieu of the early Middle Ages, especially among the new orders of the eleventh and twelfth centuries and notably among the Cistercians.48 Exempla were especially well suited to eleventh-century polemicists such as Wulfstan, archbishop of York (1002–23), Odilon of Cluny (†1049), and Peter Damien (†1072) whose emphases on biblical, historical, and hagiographical exempla respectively, show a continuity with the earlier patristic tradition.49 By the late twelfth century, the medieval exemplum as an illustrative story took on its characteristic structure, function and diﬀusion, and by the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries its transformation as a literary and cultural object led to the appearance of numerous exempla collections which had signiﬁcant implications and importance for the study of medieval preaching. Of the forty-six collections cited by Welter, thirty-four (principally by Dominicans and Franciscans) date from 1250 to 1350, when the number of collections noticeably diminished.50 Classiﬁcation schemes varied: logical order was favored especially by Cistercian and Dominican authors; alphabetical order with its ease of use was a feature of the Liber exemplorum ad usum praedicantium (ca.1275) by an anonymous English Franciscan, the Tabula exemplorum secundum ordinem alphabeti (ca. 1277), and the Speculum laicorum (1279–92). Another innovation at the beginning of the fourteenth century was by the Dominican Arnold of Liège (†1308) who, in his alphabetical collection of exempla, follows most exempla with the note ‘‘Hoc eciam valet ad’’, a system of cross-referencing which showed that the exemplum could be used in diﬀerent contexts.51

46 M.D. Howie, Studies in the use of Exempla: With special reference to middle high German literature (London, 1923), p. 6. 47 See Dialogorum Libri , PL 77:149–430 and Saint Gregory the Great, Dialogues, tr. O.J. Zimmerman, Fathers of the Church (N.Y., 1959). 48 L’ ‘Exemplum’ (Typologie), p. 50. 49 Welter, L’exemplum, pp. 21–22. 50 L’ ‘Exemplum’ (Typologie), pp. 58–60. 51 L’ ‘Exemplum’ (Typologie), pp. 60–62.While most of the exempla collections were in Latin, exempla were also diﬀused in vernacular languages. See, for example, the sermons of preachers such as Bernardino da Siena which contain exempla in the vernacular. See further the study by Carlo Delcorno, L’exemplum nella predicazione volgare di Giordano

 ‘ ’    

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Alphabetical arrangements, though taken for granted in modern reference works, were not an obvious medieval innovation. As Richard H. Rouse and Mary A. Rouse observed in their splendid study of the Manipulus Florum (1306) of Thomas of Ireland: ‘‘to discuss Filius before Pater, or Angelus before Deus, simply because the alphabet required it, would have seemed absurd’’.52 Alphabetization ﬁrst gained acceptance in collections of distinctions, concordances and subject indexes and then was applied to the organization of materials in encyclopedias, exempla collections, and ﬂorilegia. By the 1270s, there was wide acceptance of a subject index and of general reference tools by masters and scholars in Paris.53 In the 1280s, an eﬀective biblical concordance became available, so that fourteenth-century artes praedicandi take for granted preachers’ access to a concordance.54 A number of important techniques had been developed to make these tools both useful and accessible: 1) the development of layouts for both book and page; 2) the emergence of reference systems, including the adoption of Arabic numerals; and 3) acceptance of alphabetical order as a means of arranging words and ideas.55 The Manipulus Florum belongs to the genre of ﬂorilegia, which alphabetically arranged, was an extremely popular work with links to the growing importance of preaching and preaching tools in the high Middle Ages. As ‘‘an alphabetically-arranged topical compendium of auctoritates, designed for use in writing sermons’’56 the Manipulus Florum was a typical product of its age. Consisting of some 6,000 extracts from patristic and ancient sources, classiﬁed according to 266 alphabetically-arranged topics, the Manipulus Florum, including prologue and bibliography would correspond to a modern work of 365 pages.57 Its audience was the average universitytrained preacher who needed a useful reference manual for sermons that were becoming increasingly complex in structure and da Pisa, Memorie dell’Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere, ed Arti, Classe di Scienze Morali 36 (Venice, 1972). 52 Richard M. Rouse and Mary A. Rouse, Preachers, Florilegia and Sermons: Studies on the Manipulus ﬂorum of Thomas of Ireland (Toronto, 1979), p. 35. [hereafter cited as Rouse and Rouse, MF] 53 Rouse and Rouse, MF, p. 21. 54 Rouse and Rouse, MF, p. 11. 55 Rouse and Rouse, MF, pp. 26–27. 56 Rouse and Rouse, MF, p. ix. 57 Rouse and Rouse, MF, p. 117.

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dependent upon the citation of authorities.The usefulness and popularity of the work are attested by 180 surviving manuscripts and some forty-seven printings between 1483 and 1887.58 Further, the Manipulus Florum became the vehicle whereby twelfth and thirteenth-century sources were made available to many later writers including not only preachers but also theologians, mystics, lawyers, and vernacular poets. Preaching aids also included collections of similitudes or similitudines. Deﬁned as a likening or comparison, a parable or allegory, the similitude had much in common with those exempla that lacked speciﬁc or historical detail. An early collection was the book of Similitudes of Anselm (†1109), assembled by his biographer Eadmer.59 A much more systematic collection of similitudes was assembled by William de Montibus in his Similitudinarium. Called the most famous teacher in England during the late twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, William de Montibus (ca.1140–1213) taught at Paris and then at the cathedral school at Lincoln.60 William himself speciﬁed in his prologue to the Similitudinarium the form of the work: ‘‘That we might be able to ﬁnd a simile pertinent to an argument more quickly and easily, we have taken pains to organize this treatise on similitudes in alphabetical order; we give this work the name Similitudinarium.’’61 William’s treatise had as its audience students, teachers, and preachers who would transmit the understanding of theological doctrine to the people in their care. William distinguished similitudes from examples: similitudines, for the most part, were drawn from the world of nature; exempla, from human history.62 The following entries will serve to illustrate the brief form 58

Rouse and Rouse, MF, p. x. See Roberts, Studies, p. 90. 60 William’s life and pastoral writings were the subject of an unpublished D.Phil. thesis at Oxford (1957) by Hugh MacKinnon. Joseph Goering, whose own dissertation at Toronto shared an interest in William de Montibus, proposed to MacKinnon in the spring of 1982 an updating of the thesis and preparation for publication.The collaboration was short-lived, however, terminated by MacKinnon’s untimely death in December 1982. Goering’s book William de Montibus (c. 1140–1213) The Schools and the Literature of Pastoral Care (Toronto, 1992) owes a great and acknowledged debt to MacKinnon’s earlier study. 61 Quoted in Goering, p. 305. 62 Goering, p. 304. There were also interesting cross references between works on natural science and similitudines and exempla for the use of preachers. The Liber de Naturis Rerum, a natural science encyclopedia of the thirteenth century by Pseudo-John Folsham contains numerous annotations that could serve the reference needs of preachers. [My 59

 ‘ ’    

57

and content of some of these similitudes:63 Controversy (Contentio): We are dwarfs on the shoulders of giants and small birds on the wings of eagles. Merit (Meritvm): Just as light and the power of sight work together for seeing, so grace and free choice work together for meriting. Secular (Secvlaris): St. Malachy was no more inﬂuenced by his barbarous homeland than are the ﬁsh of the sea by their salty home.

A book of similitudes has also been attributed to Stephen Langton whose possible connections with William de Montibus I have explored elsewhere.64 Master of theology in the schools at Paris, archbishop of Canterbury from 1207–28, notable preacher and biblical scholar, Langton’s Similitudines were at an early date absorbed into some copies of William de Montibus’ Similitudinarium.65 Furthermore, examples of similitudes that appear in the Langton collection and in Langton’s own sermons underscore how useful the similitude could be for the medieval preacher.66 Langton and William de Montibus also appear as authors of yet another type of preaching aid, namely books of distinctions which were a key to utilizing and organizing the senses of Scripture. Medieval preachers drew on a long tradition of expounding Scripture according to its multiple senses: historical or literal, tropological, allegorical, and anagogical. Medieval treatises on preaching also commented on the importance of the use of the senses of Scripture. Guibert de Nogent, in his handbook on sermon-making, urged preachers to use any or all of the four senses of scriptural interpretation and oﬀered as an example this interpretation of Jerusalem in its multiple senses: in the literal sense, Jerusalem represents the city of that name; in the allegorical sense, it represents Holy Church; in the tropological sense, it signiﬁes the faithful soul of one who aspires to the vision of eternal peace; and in the anagogical sense, Jerusa-

thanks to Dmitri Abramov who called attention to this connection in a paper delivered at the International Medieval Congress at Leeds in 1999 and who kindly sent me copies of selected folia from the manuscript Trinity College (Cambridge) R.15.13 (938) which contain these moral annotations.] 63 Quoted in Goering, p. 305. 64 See Roberts, Studies, pp. 90–93. 65 See Goering, pp. 307–312, for a description of the manuscripts of de Montibus’ work and references to the appearance of the Langton material. 66 See Roberts, Studies, p. 93 for examples.

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lem refers to the life of the dwellers in Heaven who see God revealed in Zion.67 Senses of Scripture were tabulated and formulated in the distinctio, a scheme or table of meanings for each word, according to three or four senses, each meaning frequently illustrated by a text. The earliest examples of biblical distinctions appear to have been the work of Paris masters and belong to the last quarter of the twelfth century and became an increasingly frequent feature in sermons to clergy and people thoughout the Middle Ages. A book of Distinctiones had, in fact, long been attributed to Stephen Langton.68 Riccardo Quinto has recently demonstrated that such a collection by Langton has survived in two Paris manuscripts, Bibliothèque nationale lat. 393, fols. 22r–31v and lat. 14526, fols. 161–174. His survey of the Langton opera includes a tabulation of ninety distinctiones, an example of a genre that was immensely valuable as an aid to preaching.69 Unlike Langton’s book which was more strictly ‘‘biblical’’ in source material, William de Montibus’ Distinctiones are more correctly described as ‘‘theological’’. While numerous examples of distinction books relied on the traditional schema of the senses of Scripture, William’s work is ‘‘more a theological textbook or summa than a catalogue of biblical usage’’.70 Distinctiones might lend themselves to schematic or diagrammatic representations, or as William here includes, more discursive entries that were characteristic of many contemporary distinction collections. William’s ﬁrst entry is 67 For references and a summary of the development of the senses of Scriptural interpretation, see Roberts, Studies, pp. 103–06. 68 See Roberts, Studies, p. 107, n. 79 for references. 69 Riccardo Quinto, ‘‘Doctor Nominatissimus’’ Stefano Langton (+ 1228) e la tradizione delle sue opere, Beiträge zur Geschichte der Philosophie und Theologie des Mittelalters, Neue Folge 39 (Münster, 1994), pp. 58–76. Further on biblical distinctions, see Richard H. and Mary A. Rouse, ‘‘Biblical Distinctiones in the Thirteenth Century,’’ in Archives d’histoire doctrinale et littéraire du moyen âge 41 (1974), 27–37 and the following articles by Louis-Jacques Bataillon: ‘‘L’Agir humain d’après les distinctions bibliques du e siècle,’’ in L’Homme et son univers au moyen âge, Actes de septième congrès international de philosophie médiévale (30 août–4 septembre 1982), ed. Christian Wenin (Louvain-la-neuve, 1986), pp. 776–90; ‘‘Intermédiaires entre les traités de morale pratique et les sermons: les Distinctiones bibliques alphabétiques,’’ in Les genres littéraires dans les sources théologiques et philosophiques médiévales. Déﬁnition, critique et exploitation, Actes du colloque international de Louvain-la-neuve 25–27 mai 1981 (Louvain-la-neuve, 1982), pp. 213–26; ‘‘The Tradition of Nicholas of Biard’s Distinctiones,’’ in Viator. 25 (1994), 245–88. 70 Goering, p. 261.

 ‘ ’    

59

typical of his method: ‘‘Arcus dicitur Christus, et propitiatio Dei, scriptura, iudicium, robur, intentio, insidie, et dolus.’’ Each meaning he then illustrates with an appropriate scriptural verse, examples from the natural world, the lives of the saints, the liturgy, or a theological interpretation.71 The distinctio form was not only useful for preachers; it also had a wide and valuable use for the study of Scripture and theology. I turn ﬁnally to the close links between the study of the Bible and preaching which Peter the Chanter (†1197) had described so succinctly: The practice of Bible study consists in three things: reading (lectione), disputation, preaching... Reading is, as it were, the foundation and basement for what follows, for through it the rest is achieved. Disputation is the wall in the building of study, for nothing is fully understood or faithfully preached, if it is not ﬁrst chewed by the tooth of disputation. Preaching, which is supported by the former, is the roof, sheltering the faithful from the heat and wind of temptation. We should preach after, not before, the reading of Holy Scripture and the investigation of doubtful matters by disputation.72

The medieval sermon drew its fundamental inspiration from Scripture. Sermons drew widely on biblical texts and examples which preachers saw as especially relevant to the teaching of both clergy and layfolk. The Bible, with its glosses and commentaries, was, after all, the quintessential element of the ars praedicandi. Stephen Langton, the greatest biblical scholar of the later twelfth century, commented on the whole of the Bible. Biblical glosses were read as lectures in the Paris schools, circulated and transmitted by reportatio.73 Langton’s commentaries contain a considerable amount of homiletic material. Marginal and/or interlinear glosses call attention to portions of the text that suited a particular occasion for preaching. Whether these notes were in the original reportationes of Langton’s lectures or were added by a later copyist does not diminish their 71 The passage quoted denotes the various meanings of arcus or rainbow . ‘‘The rainbow is said [to signify] Christ and propitiating of God, Scripture, judgement, strength, intention [or the exertion of mind], trickery and deceit.’’ Translation mine. Quoted in Goering, p. 262. 72 Verbum Abbreviatum, c. 1 PL 205:25. Translated in Beryl Smalley, The Study of the Bible in the Middle Ages, 3rd ed. (Oxford, 1984), p. 208. See further Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘De la lectio à la praedicatio. Commentaires bibliques et sermons au e siècle,’’ Revue des sciences philosophiques et théologiques 70 (1986), 559–75. 73 For references on Langton’s biblical commentaries, see Roberts, Studies, p. 97.

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usefulness as an aid for preachers. The lecture-commentary itself thus became a source book for sermon-making.While the commentary itself was clearly too bulky for the purpose, various methods of annotation appear in the manuscripts to facilitate their use: 1) marginal notes or headings which indicated the suitability of certain passages as themes for particular sermons and occasions; 2) indexes by subject which sometimes appear in the manuscripts to aid the preacher; and 3) the most drastic method, which was to break up the commentary and then retranscribe it as subject matter for sermons arranged according to the liturgical year.74 A brief example from Langton’s commentaries must here suﬃce:75 Peterhouse College (Cambridge) MS 112, which contains texts of Langton’s biblical commentaries, is full of glosses, some of which highlight the relevance of certain passages to sermons. The book of Genesis, chapters 6–9, gives an account of the Flood; on fol. 10rb of the manuscript, the following is added: Sermo in sinodo, and a gloss in which the ark is compared to the Church: ‘‘... quia sicut archa tundebatur ﬂuctibus maris et non submergebatur, ita ecclesia tunditur undique persecutione malorum nec submergitur.’’ The archa suggested the Church; the archus (rainbow) that appeared after the waters of the Flood receded designated Sacred Scripture, a text suited to the Feast of St Martin: ‘‘... per archum etiam intelligitur predicatio... per archum designatur sacra scriptura, iste archus positus in nubibus celi, i.e. in doctrina apostolorum et prophetarum...’’ (fol. 11rb) In most cases, these glosses refer to a scriptural passage which is commented on in the text. These are not necessarily themes of sermons. Yet there are also examples when themes might be identiﬁed. Notice for example the passage on  Reg.,  in Peterhouse MS 112, fol. 142rb: ‘‘Si quis cognoverit plagam cordis sui. Sermo in dedicatione ecclesie...’’ [=1 Kings 8.38 ‘‘... if every man shall know the plague of his own heart...’’] Langton himself preached on this theme on the occasion of a church dedication.76

74 Beryl Smalley, English Friars and Antiquity in the Early Fourteenth Century (Oxford, 1960) pp. 34–36. 75 ‘‘quia sicut archa’’: ‘‘Even as the ark was tossed about by the waves of the sea and was not sunk, so is the Church beset everywhere by evil persecution and is not submerged.’’ ‘‘per archum etiam’’: ‘‘The rainbow [has several meanings]; it is understood [or interpreted] as preaching and as Sacred Scripture. That rainbow situated in the clouds of the sky, i.e., in the teaching of the apostles and prophets. Translations mine. For additional examples, see Roberts, Studies, pp. 98–99. 76 For references, see Roberts, Studies, p. 99.

 ‘ ’    

61

As we have seen from the evidence described in this chapter, the ars praedicandi undoubtedly played a crucial role in the history of medieval preaching. Consisting not only of the many manuals – both theoretical and practical – that described the construction of the medieval sermon and thus reﬂected homiletic practice, the ars praedicandi also came to include numerous preaching aids that were developed and widely diﬀused in the course of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. These included glosses on Scripture, concordances, collections of model sermons, handbooks of exempla, ﬂorilegia, distinctions and similitudes. Taken together, the ars praedicandi constituted a new rhetoric of preaching that served the changing needs of clergy and laity in the high Middle Ages.77 Select Bibliography Baldwin, Charles S., Medieval Rhetoric and Poetic (to 1400) Interpreted from Representative Works (Gloucester, MA, 1959 [1928]). Bataillon, Louis-Jacques, La Prédication au e siècle en France et Italie, Collected Studies Series 402 (Brookﬁeld, Vt., 1993). Bremond, Claude, Jacques Le Goﬀ, et Jean-Claude Schmitt, L’ ’Exemplum’, Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 40 (Turnhout, 1982). Briscoe, Marianne, Artes Praedicandi and Barbara H. Jaye, Artes Orandi. Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 61 (Turnhout, 1992). Caplan, Harry, Of Eloquence: Studies in Ancient and Medieval Rhetoric, ed. Anne King and Helen North (Ithaca, N.Y., 1970). Charland, Thomas M., Artes Praedicandi: Contribution à l’histoire de la rhétorique

77 This survey of the ars praedicandi and the medieval sermon could be supplemented by the researches of many scholars currently involved in medieval sermon studies.The Eleventh Medieval Sermon Studies Symposium held in July 1998 in Erfurt, Germany was devoted in its entirety to the theme: ‘‘Preaching Tools and their Uses’’ which included inter alia papers on the use of model sermons as preaching tools; the uses of preaching and preaching tools in the Mission of the high Middle Ages; Concordantia in the dominical sermons of Antony of Padua; the ‘‘Disciplina clericalis’’ of Petrus Alphonsus and its diﬀusion in medieval exempla collections; the ‘‘Historia septem sapientium’’ as a preaching tool; and canonization bulls and Neapolitan saints and sermons in the early fourteenth century. Abstracts of these papers by David L. d’Avray (London), James D. Ryan (New York), Paul Spilsbury (Bristol), Jacques Berlioz (Lyon), Detlef Roth (Basel), George Ferzoco (Leicester), respectively, and those of other participants may be found in Medieval Sermon Studies 42 (Autumn 1998), 10–19.The study of ars praedicandi and the medieval sermon is alive and well!

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au moyen âge, Publications de l’Institut d’études médiévales d’Ottawa 7 (Paris, 1936). Goering, Joseph, William de Montibus (c. 1140–1213): The Schools and the Literature of Pastoral Care (Toronto, 1992). Kennedy, George A., Classical Rhetoric and its Christian and Secular Tradition from Ancient to Modern Times (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1980). Miller, Joseph M., Michael H. Prosser, and Thomas W. Benson, eds., Readings in Medieval Rhetoric (Bloomington, Ind., 1973). Murphy, James J., Medieval Rhetoric: A Select Bibliography (Toronto, 1971). —, ed., Three Medieval Rhetorical Arts (Berkeley/Los Angeles, 1971). —, Rhetoric in the Middle Ages: A History of Rhetorical Theory from St. Augustine to the Renaissance (Berkeley/Los Angeles, 1974). Roberts, Phyllis Barzillay, Stephanus de Lingua-Tonante: Studies in the Sermons of Stephen Langton (Toronto, 1968). Rouse, Richard H. and Mary A. Rouse, Preachers, Florilegia and Sermons: Studies on the Manipulus ﬂorum of Thomas of Ireland (Toronto, 1979).

CHAPTER FOUR

CORAM PAPA PREACHING AND RHETORICAL COMMUNITY AT PAPAL AVIGNON Blake Beattie (University of Louisville, Kentucky) Among the many changes occasioned by the papacy’s relocation to Avignon at the beginning of the fourteenth century was a redeﬁnition of the nature of pontiﬁcal liturgies and the preaching that attended them. Pontiﬁcal liturgies that had been celebrated for time immemorial in the public spaces of the great Roman basilicæ or in grand papal processions through the streets of Rome found themselves necessarily transferred to more exclusive venues. The most distinctive of these, of course, was the private chapel of the palais des papes constructed during the pontiﬁcates of Benedict  (1334–42) and Clement  (1342–52); but even before the construction of the palace, pontiﬁcal liturgies at Avignon began to take place principally in venues that served also as centers for the private devotions of the popes. John  (1316–34), for example, seems to have used Notre-Dame des Doms, or perhaps the inner chapel of the episcopal palace, as both a public liturgical center and a private chapel – even as it continued to function as the cathedral church of Avignon!1 At the same time, perhaps as a direct result of the increasingly blurred distinction between public and private pontiﬁcal liturgies, the popes themselves began to withdraw from their role as celebrants and preachers. The papal retreat from liturgical preaching was neither abrupt nor complete: most of the thirty-six surviving sermons of John , the thirty-four surviving sermons of Benedict , and the forty-one surviving sermons of Clement  1 Marc Dykmans, ‘‘Jean , et les Carmes. La controverse de la Vision,’’ Carmelus 17 (1970), 159. It is certain that John  established chapels at several Avignonese churches, including (as of 1322) Notre-Dame des Doms; see Bernard Guillemain, La cour pontiﬁcale d’Avignon (1309–1376). Étude d’une société (Paris, 1966), p. 362.

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were preached during formal liturgical celebrations.2 Yet the popes of Avignon were at least as likely to leave the exposition of God’s word to surrogate preachers – especially cardinals – whose exalted dignity could be seen to justify the substitution. The ceremonial of Cardinal Jacopo Stefaneschi (†1341), whose observations on the rituals of the curia obtained for much of the fourteenth century, identiﬁes ﬁfty major feasts per year whose Masses were celebrated by the pope in propria persona. Thirty-eight of these feasts incorporated preaching into the liturgy; at such celebrations, according to Stefaneschi, the pope could preach, if he so desired, or designate a surrogate to preach in his place.3 This suggests a departure from the practices of only a generation earlier, when the pontiﬁcal of Guillaume Durand the Younger (c.1295) recorded that the pope himself would customarily preach after the gospel at pontiﬁcal Masses, if he desired a sermon.4 The trend was suﬃciently steady that, by about 1500, the pope had ceased entirely to serve as preacher at pontiﬁcal celebrations.5 Thus, Avignon played an important role in the transition from the public liturgical celebrations of the medieval papacy to the private court ceremonies of the Renaissance. The impact of these changes on curial preaching was signiﬁcant. Inasmuch as many pontiﬁcal liturgies in thirteenth-century Rome were celebrated as public aﬀairs, the sermons that attended them – and were traditionally delivered by the papal celebrant–issued general exhortations, appropriate to the liturgical celebration at hand, to the broadest of Christian audiences. The essentially private sermons of the fourteenth-century curia, by contrast, addressed themselves to the peculiar needs of the pope before whom (at least as often as by whom) they were delivered, and of the curial prelates who attended him in the chapel. As a consequence, Avignonese curial preaching necessarily employed the rhetorical forms that spoke most directly to a very speciﬁc Christian community com2

Guillemain, La cour pontiﬁcale d’Avignon, pp. 128–29. See Marc Dykmans, Le cérémonial papal, 2: De Rome en Avignon, ou le cérémonial de Jacques Stefaneschi (Bruxelles/Rome, 1981), pp. 405.5–9. The list of feasts is found on pp. 405–11. 4 See Michel Andrieu, Le pontiﬁcal romain au moyen-age, 3: Le pontiﬁcal de Guillaume Durand, Studi e testi 88 (Vatican, 1940), .xviii, 33 (639.15–19). 5 John W. O’Malley, Praise and Blame in Renaissance Rome: Rhetoric, Doctrine, and Reform in the Sacred Orators of the Papal Court, c. 1450–1521 (Duke University, 1979), pp. 12–13. 3

    

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prised exclusively or almost exclusively of prominent Churchmen. While these prelates came from a variety of cultural, linguistic, socio-economic and vocational backgrounds, they shared a common set of prelatial responsibilities that imparted to them at least some form of community. The language of curial preaching at fourteenth-century Avignon is the language of that community. It is a language characterized less by the prescriptive stylistic and topical forms which adorned the classical or Renaissance rostrum than by an oratorical sensibility articulated most famously by Cato the Elder (234–149 BC): rem tene, verba sequentur.6 The res which preoccupied curial preachers at Avignon were those which pertained most directly to the activities of curial prelates; the verba that followed were, for the most part, the words of the scriptural, canonical, and patristic texts through which the preachers interpreted their subjects and from whose language they constructed the ethical-rhetorical apparatus of their arguments. Thus, while there is little in Avignonese curial preaching to suggest a formal rhetoric, analogous to the one employed by humanist preachers in the ﬁfteenth and sixteenth centuries, an examination of a number of curial sermons – speciﬁcally, those contained in Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, a late fourteenth- or early ﬁfteenth-century collection of sermons from papal Avignon7 –reveals what is nevertheless an authentic and distinctive rhetorical tradition, predicated not on common stylistic and syntactical practices, but on common homiletic techniques, a broadly circumscribed corpus of authorities, and a general attentiveness to the peculiar circumstances of the sermons’ audience. The present discussion focuses on ten sermons from the Valencia MS, all of whose rubrics indicate clearly that they were preached in the papal cappella, before the pope, the Sacred College of Cardinals, and other members of the curia, at fourteenth-century Avignon. Five were delivered during pontiﬁcal liturgies by cardinals

6 ‘‘Grasp the concept; the words will follow.’’ The earliest author to attribute the dictum directly to Cato was Julius Victor, who wrote a fourth-century ars thetorica based on Quintilian’s. 7 For the MS, see Thomas Kaeppeli, ‘‘Predigten am päpstlichen Hof von Avignon,’’ Archivum Fratrum Prædicatorum 19 (1949), 388–93; Johann-Baptist Schneyer, Geschichte der katholischen Predigt (Freiburg, 1969), p. 171; Elías Olmos y Canalda, Catálogo descriptivo: Códices de la catedral de Valencia, 2nd ed. (Valencia, 1943), p. 159; Blake Beattie, ‘‘A Book of the Schismatic Pope Benedict ? Cues to the Ownership of a Collection of Coram Papa Sermons,’’ Mediæval Studies 57 (1995), 345–56.

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acting as surrogates for the pope: Cardinal Pierre de Préz (c.1285–1361), who preached on the fourth Sunday of Advent sometime after his appointment as vice-chancellor in 1325;8 Pierre Bertrand (c.1280–1348), who preached on Ash Wednesday sometime between 1331 and 1348;9 Cardinal Élie Talleyrand de Périgord (1301–64), who preached on the third Sunday of Lent 1333;10 Cardinal Imbert du Puy (c.1300–48), who preached on the second Sunday of Lent 1333;11 and Cardinal Gui de Boulogne (1316–73), who preached on the second Sunday of Lent sometime after his elevation to the cardinalate in 1342.12 Five were preached by bishops whose coram papa sermons were almost certainly occasioned by visits to the curia on other business: Bernat Oliver, OESA (†1348), who preached on Passion Sunday 1334 and again eleven or twelve years later, during his short tenure as bishop of Barcelona, on the feast of Saint Benedict;13 Angelo Cerretani (†1349), bishop of Grosseto, who preached on the feast of St Stephen in 1344;14 Luca Mannelli, OP (†1362), bishop of Zituni (Greece), who preached on the fourth Sunday of Advent, 1346;15 and Gonzálo de Aguilar (†1353), bishop of Sigüenza, who preached on Lætare Sunday of 1346.16 The coram papa sermons of the Avignonese chapel were liturgical sermons, preached during major Christian feast and especially during the great preaching cycles of Advent and Lent. They were almost certainly delivered inter solemnias missarum: later Avignonese ceremonials indicate that Lenten sermons at pontiﬁcal Masses immediately followed the reading of the gospel by the presiding cardinal deacon.17 Typically, the sermons communicated simple, pastoral messages, and exhorted their audience to standards of Christian conduct appropriate to the season or feast day. The sermons by Bernat Oliver, on the feast of St Benedict, and Angelo 8

Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fols. 1ra–5vb.

Ibid., fols. 22ra–28rb.

10 Ibid., fols. 35va–41ra.

11 Ibid., fols. 90ra–92va.

12 Ibid., fols. 177ra–184ra.

13 Ibid., fols. 72rb–78vb, 105ra–113rb.

14 Ibid., fols. 123va–131va.

15 Ibid., fols. 184va–194vb.

16 Ibid., fols. 195ra–202va.

17 Marc Dykmans, Le cérémonial papal de la ﬁn du moyen age à la Renaissance, 3: Les textes

Avignonnaises jusqu’à la ﬁn du grand schisme d’Occident (Bruxelles/Rome, 1983), p. 196.28–29. 9

    

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Cerretani on the feast of St Stephen, are illustrative: they present their subjects as outstanding exemplars of Christian life, and call upon their auditors to imitate them. Sometimes, the preachers found occasion to address distinctive ceremonial practices pertinent to the feast day. Thus, Gonzálo de Aguilar devoted the last part of his Lætare Sunday sermon to an elaborate discussion of the symbolism of the Golden Rose, which the pope customarily presented on that day to the secular prince who had rendered the most valuable services to the papacy in the preceding year.18 In every case, it is clear that the liturgical context was critically important in determining the rhetorical parameters of the sermon. Structurally, most of the sermons of Valencia cat. bib. MS 215 are typical, three-point, thematic sermons, of the sort that most often appeared in contemporary model collections. Indeed, it is possible that the Valencia MS was intended to provide models for other curial preachers; some of the diagrams with which the scribe chose to illustrate rhyming or versiﬁed passages,19 for example, were most likely intended for the instruction of other preachers. The preachers introduced their scriptural themes and then dissected their moral and symbolic meanings through lengthy analyses of each of the three key words in the text. Thus, for Pierre de Préz, the Advent theme Vox clamantis in deserto (Is. 40:3) generated extensive analyses of vox (identiﬁed principally as Christ, ‘‘the proctor or nuncio of the Will and nuncio of the Heart of the God the Father’’20), clamantis (Christ as ‘‘the eminent preacher of truth in this world, in various ways’’21), and deserto (‘‘namely, the desert of our misfortune’’22). For Pierre Bertrand, the Ash Wednesday theme Sanctiﬁcamini in iusticia, et pascentur agni (Is. 5:16–17) aﬀorded an excellent opportunity to discuss the ways in which sanctiﬁcation of 18

Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fols. 201ra–202va. See examples below. On the other hand, at least one layman had requested a copy of one of the sermons, translated into Provençal for his own private reading, as the rubric of the sermon by Cardinal Talleyrand makes clear: S’’ermo quem fecit reuerendus pater et dominus dominus cardinalis Petragoricensis dominica quadragesime, coram domino papa et coram dominis cardinalibus et coram aliis prelatis, anno Domini millesimo CCCmo tricesimo tercio Auinione. Et fuit translatus in Romancio pro nobili uiro domino Petro de Via ’’(Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fol. 35va). Pierre de Vie was a nephew of Pope John . 20 Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fol. 1ra: …procurator seu nuncius Paterne Voluntatis… [et]…cordis, idest Dei Patris, nuncius. 21 Ibid., fol. 5ra: …predicator egregius super ueritatem…in isto mundo diuersimode… 22 Ibid., fol. 5rb: …[scilicet] nostre felicitatis. 19

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various types (sanctiﬁcamini) could be eﬀected by the cultivation of true and godly justice (iusticia), in the hopes of attaining salvation (et pascentur agni23). More accomplished preachers adhered less closely, perhaps, to the counsels of the model collections in composing their sermons, but only one, the Dominican Luca Mannelli – a remarkable preacher whom the Dominicans named prædicator generalis of Tuscany in 133224 – seems to have dispensed with them entirely. In each case, the tripartite thematic structure enabled the preacher to communicate a direct, straightforward pastoral message, of a sort that the conventions of the Avignonese curia apparently favored. Curial protocol at Avignon seems to have discouraged sermons on theologically controversial topics; Joan de Clarano preached on the highly contentious Beatiﬁc Vision before John , as did the archbishop of Armagh, Richard FitzRalph,25 but such discussions seem rather more the exception than the rule. Similarly, Avignonese protocol seems to anticipate the ﬁfteenth- and sixteenth-century curial prohibitions against sermons with expressly political topoi26 – even when a preacher’s scriptural theme might seem to invite such a discussion. Thus, when Luca Mannelli preached on the Advent theme Factus est principatus super humerum eius (Is. 9:6), he skillfully avoided any provocative discussion of contemporary politics, focusing instead on the necessity of Christ’s universal principate and exhorting the ecclesiastical princes in his audience to make Christ’s perfect princely authority a model for themselves.27 The liturgical circumstances in which coram papa preaching took place at fourteenth-century Avignon engendered a homiletic rhetoric whose structure was essentially thematic and whose tone was primarily pastoral. The preachers worked to create a sense of community within 23 See Blake Beattie, ‘‘Lawyers, Law and Sanctity in Sermons from Papal Avignon,’’ in Models of Holiness in Medieval Sermons, ed. Beverly M. Kienzle, E.W. Dolnikowski, Rosemary Drage Hall, Darleen Pryds, and Anne T. Thayer (Louvain-laNeuve, 1996), pp. 270–74. 24 Thomas Kaeppeli, Scriptores ordinis prædicatorum medii ævi,  (Rome, 1980), p. 89. 25 See Katherine Walsh, A Fourteenth-Century Scholar and Primate. Richard FitzRalph in Oxford, Avignon and Armagh (Oxford, 1981), pp. 84–107, 184–85. Since none of FitzRalph’s coram papa sermons is contained in the Valencia MS, they will not otherwise be considered here. 26 O’Malley, Praise and Blame in Renaissance Rome, pp. 33–35. 27 See Blake Beattie, ‘‘The Sermon as Speculum Principis: A Curial Sermon by Luca Mannelli, O.P.,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 42 (1998), 26–51.

    

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their audience through a number of rhetorical techniques which helped to incorporate their listeners into the act of preaching. Rhythmic repetition, for example, was employed to intensify the forcefulness with which certain message could be communicated. In a particularly striking example, Bernat Oliver – an experienced preacher from the Order of Augustinian Hermits – built a driving cadence around the word percussit; an excellent choice, given the percussive rhetorical eﬀect that Oliver hoped to attain: Causam querit de tanto dolore, questionem proponit de sua passione – super est – ut audiamus responsionem, que nobis dirigitur Ysaie : propter scelus populi mei percussi eum [Is. 53:8] … ¦ … Percussit itaque Deus Deum, ut mundus repararetur. Percussit Pater Filium, ut alienigena adoptaretur. Percussit solem, ut nobis eius lux comunicaretur. Percussit celum, ut nobis aperiretur. Percussit pastorem, ut grex saluaretur. Percussit agnum, ut lupus raptaretur. Percussit pellicanum, ut fuso eius sanguine pullus uiuiﬁcaretur. Percussit maris ostreolam, ut nostra purpura intingeretur. Percussit dominum, ut seruus redimeretur. Percussit regem, ut populus dominaretur. Percussit iudicem, ut reus absolueretur. Percussit iustum, ut iniustus digniﬁcaretur. Percussit ciuem, ut hostis reconsiliaretur. Percussit principem, ut exul reuocaretur. Percussit caput, ut carnis uirtus debilitaretur. Percussit brachium quasi phlebotomando, ut totum corpus sanaretur. Percussit saccum, ut thesaurus eﬀunderetur. Percussit uitam eugadi [SIC], ut ¦ incorrupcionis balsamum egrediretur. Percussit uite fontem, ut culpa lanaretur. Percussit sanctum sanctorum, ut mundus conuerteretur. Percussit salutem, ut perdicio perderetur. Percussit uitam, ut mors occideretur. Percussit sapientiam, ut nesciam instrueretur. Percussit ueritatem, ut falsitas conuinceretur. Percussit uirtutem, ut fragilitas ﬁrmaretur. Percussit pietatem, ut impietas ﬁniretur. Percussit bonitatem, ut malicia corrigeretur. Percussit scutum, ne homo inhermis et nudus uulneraretur. Vltimo percussit petram, ut nostri cordis duricia emolliretur.28

28 ‘‘He (Christ) seeks the cause for such grief, and poses the question concerning his passion – it is above (‘‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’’) – that we might hear the answer which is set out for us in Isaiah 53: ‘For the crimes of my people I have struck him.’ … And so God struck God, that the world might be repaired. The Father struck the Son, that the stranger might be adopted. He struck the Sun, that its light might be imparted to us. He struck Heaven, that it might be opened to us. He struck the Shepherd, that the ﬂock might be saved. He struck the Lamb, that the wolf might be carried oﬀ. He struck the Pelican, that by its spilt blood its chick might be restored to life. He struck the Oyster, that our royal cloth might be stained purple. He struck the Master, that the slave might be redeemed. He struck the King, that the people might reign. He struck the Judge, that the defendant might be absolved. He struck the Just, that the unjust might be made worthy. He struck the Citizen, that the enemy might be reconciled. He struck the Prince, that the exile might be recalled. He struck the Head, that the power of the ﬂesh might be weakened. He struck the Arm as if by bleeding it, that the whole body might be healed. He struck the Sack, that the treasure might be poured forth. He struck the Life of the Balsam-tree (,L2,D4FJ@<), that the

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The preachers also used rhyming or versiﬁed passages on occasion; signiﬁcantly, such passages are routinely given distinctive scribal renderings. In the ﬁrst sermon by Bernat Oliver, for instance, the scribe rendered one of the preacher’s versiﬁed passages thus: Econtrario autem Christus nos reparando ¦ ad nos infor infor tribuit nobis hodie amorem inten \ / \ \ ad nos refor – mandum contra – defor – mitatem tulit pro nobis dolorem inmen – sum. / \ / / ad nos confor abfor contulit nobis hodie honorem excell 29

A similar, if less elaborate, construction appears in the sermon by Angelo Cerretani:

Per

primum incauta securitas refrenatur; / – secundum temporalis superﬂuitas resecatur; \ tercium humana fragilitas ad uirtutem actenditur et inﬂammatur.30

And Gonzálo de Aguilar – whose sermon has more such devices than any other in the Valencia collection – creates a wheel of words to indicate that each of his three rhyming adjectives is intended to modify each of his three rhyming nouns:

balsam of incorruption should come forth from it. He struck the Font of Life, that blame might be washed away. He struck the Holy of Holies, that the worldly might be converted. He struck Safety, that perdition might be lost. He struck Life, that death might be slain. He struck Wisdom, that the ignorant might be instructed. He struck truth, that falsehood might be overthrown. He struck strength, that weakness might be strengthened. He struck Piety, that impiety might be ended. He struck Goodness, that malice might be corrected. He struck the Shield, lest the defenseless and naked man be wounded. And ﬁnally, he struck the Rock, that the hardness of our hearts should be softened.’’ (Valencia cat. bib. MS 215,’’ fols. 75vb-76rb)’’ 29 ‘‘On the contrary, Christ, by restoring us (1.) to give us form in the face of formlessness, bestowed upon us today intense love; (2.) to reshape us in the face of deformity, bore for us enormous grief; (3.) to conform us in the face of our waywardness of form, conferred upon us today exalted honor.’’ (Ibid., fol. 73rb–v) 30 ‘‘Through the ﬁrst, incautious heedlessness is kept in check; through the second, worldly superabundance is curtailed; through the third, human fragility is directed and inﬂamed to virtue.’’ (Ibid., fol. 129va)

    

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Nam quid altius, ﬃrmius gratius

incomparabili maiestate

\/ inamissibili – ° – libertate /\ inexplicabili caritate? 31

It is noteworthy that some of the preachers use such devices more than others; signiﬁcantly, none of the cardinals – all of whom were inexperienced preachers – made use of them, while all of the bishops –each of whom was an experienced preacher –did. In any case, the appearance of these devices in the sermons of the Valencia manuscript always indicates a set of rhymed or versiﬁed passages which the preacher used to create a particular rhythm or mood amongst his listeners. It was also common for the preachers to utilize a variety of rhetorical techniques which enhanced the audience’s sense of participation in the act of preaching. Almost all, for example, inserted communal prayers into their sermons. In keeping with the intense Marian piety of the Avignonese curia, the Ave, Maria was particularly popular: Pierre Bertrand,32 Bernat Oliver (in both of his sermons),33 Angelo Cerretani,34 Gui de Boulogne,35 and Gonzálo de Aguilar36 all ended their prothemes with its recitation; Gonzálo 31 ‘‘For what is loftier, more ﬁrm or more favorable than incomparable, unloseable, and inexplicable majesty, liberty and charity?’’ (Ibid., fol. 196ra) 32 Ibid., fol. 22rb: Natura enim demostrare potuit, sed illuminare non potuit. Igitur cum ego, maxime propter insuﬃcientie mee deﬀectum, indigeam hac gratia illuminante, pro ea optinenda ad ipsum qui est uera gracia recurramus et ipsius matrem salutemus dicentes, «aue, Maria». 33 Ibid., fol. 72vb: Ut ergo per memoriam passionis Christi fructum adipisci poscimus, pro gracia nobis conferenda diuinitus matrem gracie semel, si placet, deuote salutemus dicentes, «aue, Maria», etc. See also fol. 105rb: Et ideo uota nostra quibus, si sint iusta, Pater noster libenter uestitur, quia uota iustorum placabilia, Prouerbiorum  [Prov. 15:8], matri nostre tradamus. Ipsa ea ordinet, ipsa preparet, ipsa oﬀerat, ipsa impetret ea. Comitamus nostrum uotum, ut ipsa reportet nobis desideratum antidotum, rependat obtatum eﬀectum ad quod, ut eam facilius inclinemus, ipsam in principio deuotissime salutemus dicentes, «aue, Maria». 34 Ibid., fol. 123vb: Quia igitur gracia et eﬃcacia predicandi magis oracione quam studio uel lectione perﬁcitur et habetur pro gracia nobis et michi maxime neccessaria impetranda, ad matrem gracie recurramus deuote dicentes: «aue, Maria» etc. 35 Ibid., fol. 177ra: In principio pro diuina gracia nobis omnibus et michi summe neccesaria … recurremus ad uirginem illam ad quam missus est Gabriel angelus Luce I capitulo, uirginem … qualem descripsit apostolus, mente et corpore sanctam; nec nouiter, nec fortuitu inuentam, set a seculo electam, ab altissimo precognitam et sibi preparatam, ab angelis seruatam, a patribus presignatam, a prophetis promissam [I Cor. 7:34], dicentes, «aue, Maria». 36 Ibid., fol. 195rb–va: Quia, si in hiis tribus [i.e., ueritate, caritate, equitate] Christus nos

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went so far as to describe the practice as customary ( prout moris est). In each case, the preacher introduced the prayer as an appeal for divine grace and illumination as he undertook the sacred – and almost certainly rather daunting – act of expounding on Holy Scripture before the Vicar of Christ. But by enjoining his congregation to pray with him, he thus gave his listeners an active part in the sermon, and a measure of responsibility for its outcome. In a similar vein, Luca Mannelli ended his sermon by exhorting his audience to join him in chanting the Advent hymn, O clauis Dauid.37 Luca may have used the hymn as a means of restoring a liturgical rhythm that had been interrupted by a lengthy sermon, but here again, the decision to call for a congregational prayer is signiﬁcant in that it enabled the preacher to make the members of his audience participants in, and not just recipients of, the preaching of the word. It was also common practice for the preachers to conclude their sermons with what looks like a formal or quasi-formal doxology that attempts to link the principal themes of the sermon with the expectation of salvation; Pierre de Préz’s is typical: Rogabimus Dominum quod det nobis sic audire istam uocem per operum exhibicionem, sic clamare per deuotam orationem, ut mereamur habere nostri deserti reparacionem, et sic ad eternam peruenire consolacionem, ad quam perducat qui uiuit et regnat in secula seculorum, amen.38

Pierre Bertrand,39 Élie Talleyrand de Périgord,40 Bernat Oliver (in

liberauit, uere liberi erimus, quod, ut possimus plenius atque perfectius obtinere, matrem nunc fontem uberrimum graciarum, prout moris est, salutatione angelica salutemus ¦ dicentes, « aue, Maria». 37 Ibid., fol. 194va–vb: Venit ﬁlius Dei eripere hoc de seruitute, carcere et tenebris, Exodi 3, uidens ¦ uidi aﬄictionem populi mei, qui est in Egipto, et descendi liberare eum [Ex. 3:7]; per cuius aduentum Ysaya 9, populus qui ambulat in tenebris uidit lucem magnam, etc [Is. 9:2]. Ideo cantamus, «O clauis Dauid». 38 ‘‘We will ask the Lord that He enable us thus to hear this voice through the exhibition of works, thus to cry out through devout prayer, that we should merit the reparation of our desert, and thus to come to eternal consolation, to which He leads us Who lives and reigns for ever and ever, amen.’’ (Ibid., fol. 5vb) 39 Ibid., fol. 28ra–rb: Ecce primum et post: requiescent in herbis uirentibus; ecce secundum et sequitur: et in pascuis pinguibus; ecce tercium et subditur: et pascentur super montes Isræl [v. Ez. 34:14]; ecce quartum: hec pas¦cua nobis concedat etc., amen. 40 Ibid., fol. 41ra: Propter quod dicet illis, uenite, benedicti Patris mei, possidete paratum uobis regnum [Matth. 25:34], quod nobis concedat qui cum patre et Spiritu Sancto uiuit et regnat, Deus in secula seculorum, amen.

    

73

both of his sermons),41 Imbert du Puy,42 Angelo Cerretani,43 Gui de Boulogne,44 and Gonzálo de Aguilar45 all used similar forms at the end of their sermons. The recurring scribal usage of et cetera, and the fact that Talleyrand and Bernat Oliver both cite the same text from the Judgment of the Nations passage in the gospel of Matthew, may suggest the existence of preferred or even prescribed formulae for preachers of the Avignonese curia. In this case, the preacher most likely recited the words alone, but always with his congregation in mind: after all, Pierre de Préz says rogabimus, not rogabo. Thus, the use of familiar, formal conclusions provided the preacher with another means of strengthening a sense of community within his congregation. The preachers also used diﬀerent forms of direct and indirect address. At key points in their sermons, the preachers spoke directly to their listeners, in the manner of most medieval (and modern) preachers–especially to lament some grievous contemporary condition, as Pierre de Préz did when he complained of the abundance of detractors, liars and gainsayers who aﬄicted his age: Ha, domini mei! Quot sunt hodie detractors, mendaces et oblocutores, qui non habent uocem mitigatiuam set conturbatiuam, non consolatiuam set contristatiuam, non excitatiuam set prouocatiuam?46

41 Ibid., fol. 78va–vb: Quo supposito dicendum est quod Deus in principio temporis erit principium nostre gloriﬁcacionis quando dicturus suis electis, uenite, benedicti Patris mei, percipite regnum uobis paratum ¦ ab origine mundi [v. Matth. 25:34], quod nobis concedat qui est benedictus in secula seculorum, amen. See also fol. 113rb: Et sic, ut dicitur ad Ebreos o, ingressus <est> in requiem Dei [Hebr. 4:10], quam requiem nobis concedat qui est benedictus in secula seculorum, amen. 42 Ibid., fol. 92va: Hunc tamen situm nobis concedat qui uiuit et regnat in secula seculorum, amen. 43 Ibid., fol. 131va: Sic ergo ex timore tormentorum ascendimus ad contemptum terrenorum, de contemptu terrenorum ascendimus ad augmentum meritorum, et sic ambulendo de uirtute in uirtutem uidebimus Deum deorum in Syon, idest in regno celorum, quam uisionem nobis concedat qui uiuit et regnant in secula seculorum, amen. 44 Ibid., fol. 184ra: Vnusque ergo festinet ne in suis iniquitatibus rapiatur, simul quod fumatur cum culpa. Dyabolus enim quos uiuentes intendit ad uicia, morientes pertrahere nititur ad tormenta, et inpedit ne ad futuram perueniant gloriam, quam gloriam nobis concedit qui est benedictus, etc., amen. 45 Ibid., fol. 202va: Quia tota illa uita quam speramus, cum libertate quam Christus nobis donauit, non erit ad aliud quod ipsum clare uidere, et sine ﬁne amare, cuius clare noticie et iocundissimi amoris princeps nos faciat, ipse qui uiuit et regnat sine ﬁne, amen, amen. 46 ‘‘Ha, my lords! How many detractors, liars and gainsayers are there today, who have not the voice of appeasement, but of unrest; not of consolation, but of sorrow; not of encouragement, but of provocation?’’ (Ibid., fol. 3va)

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Other preachers were somewhat more elaborate in their terms of address; Bernat Oliver, for instance, underscored the liturgical dignity of his audience when he addressed them, reuerendissimi patres et domini.47 In every such usage, the preacher managed not only to establish or re-establish personal contact with his audience, but to emphasize as well that they constituted a particular and homogenous group – in this case, a group of curial prelates. The preachers also liked to use the ﬁrst-person plural whenever they could, in a manner that established a set of speciﬁc relationships among the preacher, the audience, and the text on which the sermon was based. A good example occurs early in the sermon by Élie Talleyrand: Dicat ergo pro penitentibus in hac tercia dominica Dominus Ihesus Christus quasi pro tercio signo, eciam pro appropriato tercie persone Spiritus Sancti dono demones expellente, uerba prothemate prelibata, si in digito Dei eicio demonia, profecto peruenit in uos regnum Dei [Luc. 11:20]. In quibus uerbis pro tribus neccessariis pro tempore et pugna kadragesimalis penitencie erudimur. Quia primo erudimur cui innitendum; secundo cui resistendum ut contrario, quia hosti demonio, quod ostenditur ibi, eicio demonia; cui intendendum pro stipendio, quia Dei regno: profecto, inquit, peruenit in uos regnum Dei. In isto ergo congressu cum demonibus primo tanguntur arma, cum dicitur, in digito Dei; secundo pugna, ibi eicio demonia; tercio pal¦ma ibi cum dicitur, profecto peruenit in uos regnum Dei.48

By using erudimur, Talleyrand placed himself with his listeners as a student hoping to learn from Holy Scripture; at the same time, of course, he was also the teacher, instructing his audience in the signiﬁcance of each of the three principal sections of his scriptural theme before he began to expound upon them. This rhetorical 47

Ibid., fol. 72vb. ‘‘Let the Lord Jesus Christ say therefore for penitents in this, the third Sunday [of Lent], like a third sign, indeed for the demon-expelling gift appropriate to the Holy Spirit, Third Person [of the Trinity], the words set forth in the protheme: ‘If I drive out demons by the ﬁnger of God, then the Kingdom of God has come to you’. In which words we are instructed as to three things necessary for the time and the struggle of Lenten penitence. Because ﬁrst we are instructed as to whom we should rest upon; second, as to whom we must resist as an opponent, namely the demon enemy, which is shown where He says, ‘I cast out demons’; [and third], that to which we look for our reward, namely the Kingdom of God: He says, ‘then the Kingdom of God has come to you’. Therefore, in this confrontation with demons are addressed ﬁrst the weapons, when it is said, ‘in the ﬁnger of God’; second, the ﬁght, where [He says] ‘I cast out demons’; third, the palm of victory, there where it is said, ‘the the Kingdom of God has come to you’.’’ (Ibid., fol. 36rb–va) 48

    

75

technique is likewise common in the sermons of Valencia manuscript, and served further to build a rhetorical community around the pulpit. To a considerable extent, the rhetorical forms which the preachers employed derived from their sources. In keeping with the conventions of thematic preaching in the Middle Ages, the preachers of the papal chapel buttressed their arguments with a veritable battery of authorities Although diﬀerent preachers tended to prefer diﬀerent scriptural and non-scriptural sources, certain patterns are clearly discernible within the sermons. In the ten coram papa under consideration, the preachers cite scripture 915 times, with citations from the Old Testament (482) slightly outnumbering those from the New Testament (433). The most frequently cited scriptural authority is the Psalms, with 105 citations; the gospel of Matthew (93) runs a close second, followed by the gospels of Luke (68) and John (62). Isaiah is by far the most frequently cited of the prophets, with no fewer than ﬁfty-ﬁve references. The preachers also draw numerous citations from the didactic books of Job (40), Ecclesiasticus (31), the Song of Songs (26), Proverbs (25) and Wisdom (19). The only other scriptural texts that account for twenty or more citations are Genesis (39),  Corinthians (29), the Acts of the Apostles (26), and Daniel (20). Scriptural sources cited between ten and nineteen times are  Corinthians (19),  Kings and Paul’s epistle to the Romans (16 each), Apocalypse (15), Exodus, Jeremiah and Paul’s epistle to the Philippians (12 each), Deuteronomy and the gospel of Mark (11 each), and Ezekiel (ten). Those cited between two and nine times include the Pauline epistles to the Galatians and the Ephesians (nine each); Hosea (eight); Leviticus, the epistle of James, and the ﬁrst epistle of Peter (seven each); Lamentations, Paul’s epistle to the Colossians, and the ﬁrst epistle of John (six each); Ecclesiastes, the ﬁrst epistle of Paul to the Thessalonians, and his ﬁrst epistle to Timothy (ﬁve each);  Kings and Tobias (four each);  Kings, Judges, Joel, Zechariah, and the second epistle of Peter (three each); and Judith, Amos, Zephaniah, and Paul’s second epistle to Timothy (twice each). Numbers, Joshua,  Kings, Ezra, Esther, Baruch, Micah, Habakkuk,  Maccabees, and Paul’s epistle to Titus are cited once each; Ruth,  and  Chronicles, Nehemiah, Obadiah, Jonah, Nahum, Haggai, Malachi, Maccabees, Paul’s second epistle to the Thessalonians, his epistle to Philemon, the second and third epistles of John, and the epistle of Jude, are never

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cited. Given the pastoral messages which the preachers were expected to deliver from the pulpit, it is not surprising that they should demonstrate such a strong preference for the gospels, the libri didactici (especially of the Old Testament), and those prophets (e.g., Isaiah and Daniel) whose prophecies spoke most directly to the coming of Christ. Those same sources thus account for the bulk of the scriptural language, exempla, and imagery in the curial sermons of the Avignonese chapel. The preachers’ non-scriptural sources are often quite eclectic – they include authors as diverse as Seneca, Walafrid Strabo, Abbot Ernaldus, Cardinal Drogo, and Pope Innocent  – but they too reveal certain recurring patterns. Of the 410 non-scriptural sententiæ cited in the ten sermons, more than half were drawn from three doctrinal and pastoral giants of the medieval Church: Augustine (cited 97 times), Gregory the Great (70), and Bernard of Clairvaux (43). The glossa ordinaria is also cited often, at least forty times, but unevenly: relatively inexperienced preachers, like the ﬁve cardinals, none of whom had much theological training, used it far more frequently than the ﬁve bishops, all of whom were university-trained theologians. Pierre de Préz, a Toulouse-educated doctor utriusque iuris and former auditor causarum sacri palatii,49 cited the glossa no less than nine times in his Advent sermon; Angelo Cerretani, a Paris-educated doctor sacræ paginæ,50 declined to cite it at all. The only other author cited more than twenty times is Jerome (26). Among the numerous other authorities, however, the great majority dates from the patristic period or the early Middle Ages; very few date from later than the twelfth century, and Bernard of Clairvaux is the only twelfth-century author cited with regularity. Thus, the preachers worked primarily from a body of sources that took but little account of the scholastic legacy of the twelfth- and thirteenth-century universities – even when the preachers were themselves scholastic theologians. Gonzálo de Aguilar, for example, a bachelor of theology and former lector at the university of Paris,51 provides but a 49 See Jean  (1316–1334), Lettres communes analysées d’après les registres dits d’Avignon et du Vatican, ed. G. Mollat, 16 vols. (Paris, 1904–47), #1157, #4072, #4865; Étienne Baluze, Vitæ paparum Avenionensium, hoc est historia pontiﬁcum Romanorum qui in Gallia sederunt, ed. G. Mollat, 4 vols. (Paris, 1914–22), 2, pp. 245–46. 50 Lettres communes de Jean  , #63358. 51 See Chartularium universitatis Parisiensis sub auspiciis consilii generalis facultatum Parisiensium, ed. Heinrich Deniﬂe and Emil Chatelain, 2 vols. (Paris, 1891), 2, p. 411,

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single citation of Aristotle in his protheme52 and a short quotation from Hugh of St Victor’s Soliloquium de arrha animæ.53 The ‘‘new learning’’ of the universities is otherwise entirely absent from Gonzálo’s sermon. On the other hand, he cites Augustine twentyfour times and Bernard of Clairvaux ten times. The only other twelfth- or thirteenth-century authorities cited, explicitly or otherwise, are Alan of Lille’s De planctu naturæ54 and a sermon of Innocent ,55 neither of which could be deﬁned as ‘‘scholastic.’’ The only preacher whose sermon bears a strong scholastic imprint is the Dominican Luca Mannelli, whose seven citations of Thomas Aquinas account for nearly half of all references to the doctor angelicus in the coram papa sermons of the Valencia manuscript. Otherwise, the preachers seem united in their preference for a more traditional body of authorities, rooted for the most part in Christian antiquity; as a consequence, the non-scriptural language and imagery of their sermons is for the most part patristic and early medieval. In contrast, the preachers were clearly much more receptive to the thought of the second great discipline of the twelfth- and thirteenth-century universities, law. Gratian’s Decretum is cited no less than thirty-one times in the coram papa sermons of the Valencia MS. Even Justinian’s Corpus iuris civilis – not the most likely source, perhaps, for a medieval sermon – managed to earn three citations, just one less than the great twelfth-century Parisian master Peter Lombard. The reasons may be obvious. The advanced theological exposition that characterized most scholastic writings, especially in the thirteenth century, was not always especially well suited to the largely pastoral agenda of the Avignonese curial preachers, who were clearly expected not to presume to instruct the pope in mat#964; Lettres communes de Jean  , #62317. He is likely the Gunsalvus Ispanus listed among Parisian scholars resident in the vicus sancti Germani de Auteseodoro in the reckoning of bursary receipts at the university between September 1329 and March 1336 (Deniﬂe/Chatelain, Chartularium universitatis Parisiensis 2, 665). 52 Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fol. 195ra: Sicut in corporalibus manus dicitur organum organorum, ut patet tertio de anima… 53 Ibid., fols. 196vb–197ra: Et non solum racione sue essencie et plenissime gratie formalis, uerum eciam racione eﬀectus quem continue exercet liberaliter erga nos, quia ut dicit Vgo de arra anime, capitulo 12, «in omnibus eius semper gratia et misericordia precedit nos, et si aliquando consumpti nobis esse uidemur, subito liberaret nos; si erramus, reducit nos; si ignoramus, docet nos; si adhuc peccamus, corrigit nos; si tribulamur, consolatur nos; si desperamus, confortat nos; si cadimus, erigit nos; si imus, ducit nos; si uenimus, recipit nos; hec omnia et multa alia tribuit Ihesus Christus Dominus Deus noster». 54 Ibid., fol. 197va. 55 Ibid., fol. 201ra.

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ters of theology. Law, by contrast, concerns itself most directly with the parameters of proper action and conduct; it is often highly conducive to prescribing correct Christian behavior. More signiﬁcantly, perhaps, it is worth recalling that lawyers and administrators with legal training outnumbered theologians by a considerable margin in the fourteenth-century curia. Those who preached apud curiam may simply have found it helpful to address their sermons to a sensibility that was much more likely to be legal than theological in its formation. When Imbert du Puy preached before Pope John  on 28 February 1333, the pope and at least twelve of the twenty-four cardinals in attendance had at least some education in law (as did the two absent cardinals, Bertrand du Poujet and Giovanni Orsini). Imbert himself was a doctor utriusque iuris, most likely from Montpellier.56 Only four of the cardinals were Paris-educated theologians, and four others had studied the liberal arts.57 All of these factors contributed to Imbert’s rather remarkable citation practice: of the twenty-ﬁve non-scriptural authorities cited in his sermon, Imbert took all but three from their corresponding citation in Gratian’s Decretum.58 The sermon provides an exceptionally good example of an Avignonese homiletic whose rhetorical forms were much more strongly informed by the language and imagery of the law than by scholastic theology. The most ‘‘lawyerly’’ sermon in the collection was delivered by Pierre Bertrand, one of the most highly regarded jurists of the ﬁrst half of the fourteenth century.59 Bertrand’s theme, Sanctiﬁcamini in iusticia, et pascentur agni (Is. 5:16–17), aﬀorded an exceptional opportunity to explore both the nature of Christian justice and the practical standards to be expected from Christian lawyers, and Bertrand took full advantage of it. He presents true justice as a form of holiness, the virtue that guides and directs all others; he rails against injustice and contemporary abuses in legal practice, and exhorts its audience of lawyers and administrators to conform their lives with

Lettres communes de Jean  , #29964.

See Beattie, ‘‘Lawyers, Law and Sanctity,’’ pp. 262–66, and Appendix.

58 E.g., see Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fol. 90rb: …quia iuxta sententiam Augustini in

Enchiridion, «omne hic meritum comparatum, quo possit post hanc uitam releuari quispiam uel grauari,» q. c.«Tempus». 59 See M. Déruelle, ‘‘Bertrand, Pierre’’, in Dictionnaire de Droit Canonique 2, col. 789–91; see also Baluze, Vita paparum Avenionensium 2, pp. 283–87. 56 57

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holy justice.60 The sermon is remarkable, and the only one in the collection to make justice and law its principal subjects. But it is far from alone amongst the sermons of the Valencia manuscript in its concern with legal issues, evocation of legal images, and citation of legal sources. Few examples are as striking as the one that occurs in the sermon of Pierre de Préz, who presented the Transﬁguration and the baptism of Christ as legal procedures, establishing Christ as the ‘‘proctor or nuncio’’ of God the Father and given authentic witness by the testimony of four notaries public, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.61 But all of the preachers, and not just those who were educated in the law, took pains to address the lawyer’s sensibility which prevailed within their audience. Angelo Cerretani, the doctor sacræ paginæ, treated procedural irregularities in the trial of St Stephen as a deﬁning feature of his proto-martyrdom;62 the Dominican theologian and pre-humanist Luca Mannelli relied heavily on the ﬁrst title of Book  of the Institutes of Justinian, De iure naturali et gentium et civili, in his own argument for the necessity of monar-

60

See Beattie, ‘‘Lawyers, Law and Sanctity,’’ pp. 270–74. Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fol. 1va–vb: Dico igitur quod Dei Filius incarnatus fuit procurator seu nuncius paterne uoluntatis, quod ostenditur cum dicitur «uox» … Sic uere Dei Filius benedictus est cordis, idest Dei Patris, nuncius … ¦ … Et sic habemus quod Dei Filius potest dici uox et nuncius Dei Patris. Verum quia non creditur procuratori seu nuncio nisi ﬁdem faciat de mandato cuiuscumque preheminencie seu dignitatis existat, ideo de mandato et potestate ipsius docetur Mathei °, Marchi ° et Luce °, ubi, presentibus multis testibus, Moyse uidelicet et Helia, et Petro et Iacobo et Iohanne, in illo monte excelso, ecce uox Patris de nube dicens: hic est Filius meus dilectus, in quo michi bene complacuit. Ipsum audite [Matth. 17:5; Marc. 9:6; Luc. 9:35). Hoc eciam quasi per eadem uerba dixit ipse Deus Pater postquam ipse Filius benedictus in Iordane extitit baptizatus, ut testiﬁcantur quatuor notarii publici Mathei °, Marchi °, Luce ° et Iohannis ° [Matth. 3:17; Marc. 1:11; Luc. 3:22; Ioh. 1:32]. 62 Ibid., fols. 124va–125rb: Nam contra doctorum disputacionem datus est ei Spiritus Sanctus, qui facundiam et sapienciam ministrabat. Contra falsorum testium produccionem datus est ei uultus angelicus, qui testes falsos ter¦rebat et confundebat. Contra tormentorum tolleracionem uidit Ihesum stantem, qui eum fortissime adiuuabat. Et hoc dicunt uerba assumpta, uidit gloriam Dei, et Ihesum stantem a dextris Dei [Act. 7:55] … ¦ … Vnde beatus Stephanus contra istos disputans eos taliter conuicebat, ut ei resistere non possent… Videntes autem Iudei ¦ quod eum superare non poterunt per disputacionem, statuerunt falsos testes qui dixerunt, «audiuimus eum dicentem blasfemiam in Moysem et in Deum», Actuum 6 [v. Act. 6:11]. Isti enim falsi testes de quatuor articulis eum accusabant, scilicet quia dixerat blasfemiam in Deum, in Moysem, in legem et in tabernaculum. A quibus se suﬃcientissime excusauit omnia illa quatuor multipliciter commendando ut Petrus in eius longo sermone quem Iudeis fecit, qui haberetur Actuum 7, quem causa breuitatis obmicto. Et ex uultu eius angelico, ut dicitur in eius legenda, testes falsi terrebantur. Intuebantur enim faciem eius sicut faciem angeli stantis inter illos, Actuum 6, ut de ipso et eius gloria intelligatur illud Ysaye 60, gloria Domini super te orta est [Is. 60:1] et Ysaye 35, gloria Libani data est ei [Is. 35:2]. 61

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chy.63 Indeed, all of the preachers, and not just those who were educated in law, took pains to address the lawyer’s sensibility that pervaded their audience; signiﬁcantly, every preacher makes at least one citation from a canon or civil law collection. At fourteenth-century Avignon, the rhetoric of the law was, to all intents and purposes, the common rhetoric of the papal curia. Finally, the curial preachers of the Valencia manuscript also invoke what might be characterized as the ‘‘rhetoric of the prelacy’’ to create a sense of community within their congregation. For an audience comprised of the pope, the cardinals, and other prominent churchmen, the responsibilities of prelates were a fertile source of homiletic subject-matter, and one which the preachers of the curia routinely exploited. All of the preachers of the Valencia collection found occasion to speak to the peculiar circumstance of the ecclesiastical prince. Often, their messages were cautionary tales, warning prelates of the spiritual perils that attended their lofty dignity. Pierre de Préz, for example, warned that promotion too often transformed quiet, devout and worthy clerics into raucous, worldly

Ibid., fol. 184va–vb: Factus est principatus super humerum eius etc., Ysaie o capitulo [Is. 9:6]. Principatum esse neccessarium in rebus humanis sanctus Thomas in libro de rege et regno sic ostendit: in omnibus que ad aliquem ﬁnem ordinantur in quibus contingit sic et aliter se habere opus est aliquo dirigente. Non est nauis, quam secundum diuersorum uentorum inpulsum diuersa moueri contingit, ad destinatum ﬁnem pertingeret, nisi per gubernantis industria derigeretur ad portum. Hominis autem est aliquis ultimus ﬁnis ad quem tota eius uita et actio ordinatur, et cum sit agens per intellectum eius, est agere et operari propter ﬁnem…¦ …Naturale est autem homini ut sit animal sociale et politicum, in multitudine uiuens...quod quidem naturalis neccesitas declarat. Aliis autem animalibus natura preparauit cibum et tegumenta pilorum et deﬀensiones, ut dentes, ungues uel cornua. Homo autem est institutus nullo horum a natura preparato, sed loco omnium data est sibi racio per quam ministerio manuum possit hec omnia preparare. Ad que omnia preparanda unus homo non suﬃcit [De regno ad regem Cypri, .1]. Et sic ex neccesitate corporis et ex indulgencia anime concludit ultimo neccessarium esse principatum, qui ad publicas utilitates tam corporis quam anime ordinet et dirigat.Qui quidem principatus fuisset eciam in statu innocencie isto, quod enim fuissent seruitutes, sicut sunt iure nature, sed iure gencium sunt ille distincte, o institutorum de iure gencium, naturali et ciuili [v. Inst. , 1.2, pr., 1]. Iste principatus, si sit paucorum ex uirtute, uocatur aristocracia; si sit ex potencia, uocatur oligarchia. Si sit multorum, ¦ uocatur politia; si corrumpatur, democracia. Si sit unius, uocatur monarchia; si corrumpatur, tirampnides. Istis principatibus respondent secundum distinctiones suas iura ciuilia. Nam in principio libri institutorum distinguitur ius scriptum in senatus consulta et responsa prudentium, edicta pretorum et edilium, plebis scita, principum placita, et quod maiores natu cum plebe fecerunt. Et uocatur lex, que distinctio correspondet diuerso principatui. Nam senatus consulta et responsa prudentium respondent aristocracie, edicta pretorum et edilium oligarchie, plebis scita politie, placita principum monarchie; per mixtum ex omnibus lex [v. Inst. , 2.3–6]. 63

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and luxurious prelates.64 Later, he complained about the ﬂatterers who wormed their way into prelates’ entourages, to the detriment of the churchman and all others around him.65 It is interesting to note that Gui de Boulogne makes precisely the same point, using the very same passage from Alan of Lille’s De planctu naturæ; it is entirely possible that the passage was found in a contemporary preaching manual, in a section which dealt speciﬁcally with the problem of the ﬂatterers and detractors who bedeviled contempo64 Ibid., fols. 2vb–3ra: Ha, Deus! Talem uocem gemebundam non habent hodie multi, qui magis delectantur in clamoribus, risibus ac leticiis ac uoluptatibus huius mundi; immo, quod est deterius, multi, licet a principio fuerint gemebundi, deuoti et religiosi, tamen postea, cum sunt inpinguati et dilitati, idest in dignitatibus et diuiciis positi, uacant clamoribus, uoluptatibus et aliis uiciis, et tales sunt similes ranis. Nam secundum Ysidorum, rana in principio est piscis mitis et suauis, qui totus uidetur esse capud et cauda, et pro tempore nascuntur sibi pedes, et cauda sibi cadit, et sic de pisce eﬃcitur rana [cf. Etymologiarum siue originum libri , 12.6]. Et ista quamdiu habet caudam non clamat, set amissa cauda statim clamat et uociferat. Et de istis ranis Sapientie o: pro piscibus eructauit ﬂuuius ranarum multitudinem [Sap. 19:10]. Sic recte sunt multi qui in principio sunt pisces, ¦ idest pii, religiosi eciam ac deuoti, nec reperitur in eis nisi capud et cauda, ut per capud intelligatur recta et debita intencio, per caudam mors, mortis seu ﬁnis memoria siue consideracio. Set pro tempore capud eorum dilatatur aﬀeccionem terrenorum ac dignitatum et diuiciarum acquisitionem. Tandem ueniunt eis pedes diuersarum aﬀectionum, ita quod de pisce in bestiam conuertuntur, maxime quia amictunt caudam, idest mortis memoriam, et tunc clamare incipiunt per inanem leticiam et ridere per uanitatem, detrahere per elacionem, derridere per arroganciam (quia pro certo ex quo homo perdit caudam, idest mortis memoriam, statim eﬃcitur bestia totus auarus, luxuriosus uel aliis uiciis irretitus), inmemores illius sentencie: uhe, qui ridetis [Luc.6:25] 65 Ibid., fol. 4va–vb: Set pro dolor! Hodie multi inueniuntur qui non habent istam uocem humilitatis, set superbie et elationis, inuidie et adulacionis, mendacii uel detractionis, qui semper repetunt que locuntur, et loquentes et audientes similes illi uoci que dicitur echo, que resonat regulariter in montibus altis, et in fontibus et in siluis. Que uox omnia que dicuntur repetit respondendo, et loquentem ac eciam audientem inpedit, iuxta illud Sapientie o, resonans de altissimis montibus echo deﬁcientes faciebat illos [Sap. 17:18]. Sic recte isti adulatores et detractores habitant in montibus altis, idest iuxta prelatos et superiores principes, et eos detraccione perturbant et per adulacionem inpediunt in maliciis et uiciis conﬁrmando, eorum dicta iustiﬁcando et eorum uicia commendando, uerba aliorum reportando eis, per mendacia detrahendo, iuxta illud Osee o, in malicia sua letiﬁcauerunt regem, et in mendaciis suis principes [Hos. 7:3]. Auditur ergo regulariter ista uox echo in montibus, idest circa prelatos et superiores principes. Auditur in fontibus, ¦ idest circa homines deliciosos; iterum in siluis, idest inter religiosos et solitarios; inmo uix est dare aliquod statum in quo tales homines similes illi echo non inueniantur. Finaliter tales faciunt principes et alios miseriores deﬁcere, uel quia credunt uera que non sunt uel quia eos libenter audiunt. Nam ut legitur in canone  q.I, ex merito, paria sunt uel detrahere uel detrahentem audire [Decretum C., c.13, q.1]. Et est racio, ut ibi in textu habetur, quia nemo inuito auditore libenter refert, uel ﬁnaliter ipsi adhulatores deﬁciunt in huius uanitatibus adhulando. Vnde de istis adhulatoribus pulcre loquitur Alannus de complanctu nature. Hii sunt, inquid, qui magniloca comendacionis tuba in auribus diuitum citharizant, qui mellite adulacionis fauos eructuant, qui ut emungant munera capud diuitum oleo adulacionis inungunt, qui a palliis aut ﬁcticium puluerum excusciunt aut uestem sophistice deplumant inplumem [De planctu naturæ ]. Set uere Christus non fuit talis, quia fuit in isto aduentu uox humilitatis, iocunditatis et benignitatis. Et sic bene conclusum est quod uox turturis audita est in terra nostra [Cant. 2:12].

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rary prelates.66 Certainly, the problem of worthless hangers-on was a very real one for cardinals at Avignon, although they may have largely brought it upon themselves: the size and composition of cardinals’ households was the subject of strenuous but almost wholly ineﬀective papal regulation throughout the fourteenth century.67 In general, the preachers were eager to stress that the prelacy entailed not only elevated dignity, but also greater responsibilities than other stations in Christian society. Gui de Boulogne, for example, observed that the princes of the Church must exhibit greater charity, to both God and neighbor, than ordinary Christians must.68 To Pierre de Préz, the heightened expectations could be explained by simple analogy: the pope sends forth prelates just as God the Father sent Christ, to call the faithful away from their sins.69 Similar reminders recur throughout the sermons of the Valencia manuscript. One of the more intriguing discussions of prelatial responsibilities occurs in the sermon delivered by Angelo Cerretani before Clement  in December 1344. The bishop of an impoverished see (Grosseto) and a generous patron of scholars and the poor,70 66 Ibid., fol. 181va–vb: Esto in uerbo uerax, neminem menciendo fallax. Non aliud loquaris et aliud facias; non aliud dicas et aliud in animo teneas. Et isto uicio, uidelicet aliud facere et aliud cogitare, maxime laborant adulatores, quia si aliquis magnus dominus faciat omnia mala mundi, dominum tum adulator expectet aliquod munus habere, exinde dicet quod totum est bonum. Et econtra, si homo faciat omnia bona mundi et adulator nichil exinde consequatur, dicet ¦ quod totum est nichil. Et ideo de hiis pulcre loquitur Alanus in libro de planctu nature, dicens sic: adulacio est cuius pestilencia percuciuntur principum laterales, palatini canes, adulationis artiﬁces, fabri laudum, ﬁguli falsitatis. Hii sunt qui magniloqua comendacionis tuba in diuitum auribus citharizant, qui mellite adulacionis fauos foras eructuant, qui, ut emungunt munera caput diuitis adulacionis oleo inungunt, prelatorum auribus puluinaria laudum subiciunt, qui ab eorundem palliis aut ﬁctitium excutiunt puluerem aut sophistice deplumant inplumem… 67 See Norman Zacour, ‘‘Papal Regulation and Cardinals’ Households in the Fourteenth Century,’’ Speculum 50, n.3 (July 1975), 434–55. 68 Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fol. 180rb: Sunt enim quidem qui uidentur habere caritatem et ad Deum et ad proximum, set hoc tantum faciunt ut aliquid lucri exinde consequantur. Et ista non est pura caritas, et maxime in prelatis, qui plus debent querere honorem Dei et utilitatem proximi quam commodum proprium. 69 Ibid., fol. 5ra–rb: Set uidetur quod in isto aduentu, quando Deus Pater ¦ misit Filium suum, potuit sibi dicere, et potest dici cuilibet prelato quando mictitur per dominum nostrum ad ecclesiam sibi commisam, illud Ysaye o: clama, ne cesses, quasi tuba exalta uocem tuam et annuntia populo meo scelera eorum [Is. 58:1]. 70 See G. Minucci, La città di Grosseto e i suoi vescovi. Già di Roselle .. 498–1988, 2 vols. (Florence, 1988), 2, pp. 232–33.

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Angelo nevertheless undertook a spirited defense of ecclesiastical power and wealth, including the fortunes amassed by prelates. He condemns as heretical the view that the wealth of the Church and its prelates posed an obstacle to salvation. Arguing that earthly riches come from God, Angelo cites the example of various scriptural sancti – Abraham, David, ‘‘and endless saints of the New and Old Testaments’’ – who enjoyed considerable wealth; it is only the abuse of wealth which incites divine wrath.71 But Angelo does insist that the wealthy–and above all wealthy churchmen–must put their riches to godly use; only fear of Hell’s torments, indiﬀerence to worldly things, and the continued augmentation of spiritual merits, he warns, will save the rich from eternal damnation.72 Thus, even when they defend an oft-criticized aspect of the fourteenth-century Church, the preachers of the Avignonese curia were quick to point out that the prelate’s special status (and success) came with special responsibilities and obligations. The single best example of an Avignonese curial sermon for prelates is the one which Luca Mannelli delivered before Clement  on the fourth Sunday of Advent, 1346. The theme– Factus est principatus super humerum eius (Is. 9:6) – aﬀorded Luca the opportunity to set forth what might well be considered a speculum principis for prelates. The protheme presents an argument for the necessity of monarchy, 71 Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fols. 128va–vb: Ex hiis uerbis et similibus fuerunt heretici qui dixerunt, et hodie sunt detractores qui dicunt, quod gloria temporalis qua modo fulget ecclesia contraria est saluti eterne. Aiunt enim quod prelati et persone ecclesiastice, ideo hii diuiciis et honoribus sublimantur, in hiis bonis pro sua mercede receptis in eternum durius puniantur-tenent timpanum et chorum, gaudent sonitum organi; ducunt in ¦ bonis dies suos, et in puncto ad inferna descendunt, Iob 21 [Iob 21:12–13] -addentes ad confutacionem sui erroris illud Iob 32, Deus proiecit eos et non homo [Iob 32:13]. Quia licet hic in presenti ab hominibus honorentur, Deus tamen eos non honorat, sed pocius abicit et contempnit, quia dans temporalia eos priuat eternis. Hec dixerunt impii, et errauerunt-excecauit enim eos malicia eorum, Sapiencie 2 [Sap. 2:21] -non actendentes quod ista temporalia bonis et malis possunt esse comunia. Nam et sancti possunt ea licite haberi, unde scriptum est quod Abraham fuit diues ualde in possessione auri et argenti, Genesis 13 [Gen. 13:2]. Sic Dauid et inﬁniti sancti noui et ueteris testamenti diuites fuerunt ualde. Nec sacra scriptura dampnat diuicias, cum a Deo bone facte sint-Genesis 1, uidit Deus cuncta que fecerat, et erant ualde bona [Gen. 1:31] -nec condampnat usum earum, cum eis iuste et sancte uti possimus, set solum dampnat abusum, unde omnes raciones et auctoritates que inducuntur contra diuicias uadunt contra abutentes, non contra bene utentes. 72 Ibid., fol. 129va: De ista autem materia racione sue profunditatis certitudinaliter non possumus <scire>, quia incomprehensibilia sunt iudicia Dei, et inuestigabiles uie eius, Romanorum  (Rom. 11:33], et Ecclesiastis 9, nemo scit utrum amore uel odio sit [Eccle. 9:1]. Quis enim scire potest quo ﬁne suus ﬁnis claudatur? Set inuenimus tria signa laudabilia propter que homo habundans temporalibus potest de eternis satis pie conﬁdere: primum signum est timor tormentorum; secundum est contemptus terrenorum; tertium est augmentum meritorum.

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based principally on Thomas Aquinas’ De regno ad regem Cypri and Justinian’s Institutes; from there, Luca proceeds to argue that proper princely rule is most perfectly exempliﬁed in Christ. For, inasmuch as the risen, cosmic Christ alone is perfect, He alone enjoys perfect possession of the venerable dignity, personal quality and royal descent on which legitimate princely rule is founded. He alone is able to exercise an authority which is perfect in both the temporal and spiritual spheres; He alone is perfectly untouched by those vices which subvert reason and invalidate princely rule. And ultimately, as Luca argues, Christ alone is perfectly able to discharge the ﬁve principal responsibilities of the prince: the defeat of enemies, the enactment of legislation, the punishment of wrongdoers, the reward of the virtuous, and the fulﬁllment of promises. Thus, Christ alone can eﬀect for His people the purest and most perfect form of liberty, freedom from sin and death.73 Embedded in Luca’s description of Christ’s principate is an outline of the proper qualities and responsibilities of earthly princes. It relies heavily on historical examples and counter-examples, the great majority of which are drawn from scripture: Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, Saul, David, Solomon, Jeroboam, Daniel, Amos, and the Roman Emperor Theodosius are all presented as exemplars of particular princely virtues, just as Sardanopolus and Nebuchadnezzar exemplify the disﬁgurement of princely authority by vice. For the most part, Luca does not distinguish between secular and ecclesiastical princes – a prudent decision, given that Luca was almost certainly a Ghibelline, whose views on the limitations to ecclesiastical power would have gotten a chilly reception in the papal chapel at Avignon.74 Indeed, Luca’s claim that Christ alone can enjoy perfect possession of both temporal and ecclesiastical power enabled him to avoid potentially controversial distinctions and to focus instead on those traits and qualities which are necessary to princes in both spheres. Yet Luca insists that ecclesiastical princes must strive to emulate Christ’s principate even more vigorously than secular princes must. For at the Last Judgment, the princes of the Church will be held to particularly high standards, not simply 73 For a much more complete discussion of the sermon, see Blake Beattie, ‘‘The Sermon as Speculum Principis: A Curial Sermon by Luca Mannelli, O.P., Medieval Sermon Studies 42 (1998), 26–51. 74 Ibid., pp. 30–31.

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because ecclesiastical things are by their very nature higher than temporal things, but because God established the apostles and their heirs (i.e., bishops and other prelates) as princes over the whole earth.75 Thus, the sermon manages to speak directly to an audience of ecclesiastical princes about their obligations to God and their own ﬂocks, and about the moral and intellectual traits which permitted them to meet these obligations, without addressing the sticky topic of contemporary politics. Ultimately, then, the preachers of the Avignonese curia had recourse to a variety of diﬀerent rhetorical practices in seeking to create a genuine sense of community within their audience. They could employ certain oral techniques, all of which were common to medieval preachers, to enhance their listeners’ sense of participation in the act of preaching. They could also invoke the language and images inherent in a broad but to some extent circumscribed body of scriptural and non-scriptural sources. And they could address certain topics, above all law and the prelacy, which had an especial pertinence to the members of their congregations. In this way, Avignonese curial preachers could ensure that their sermons transcended the limitations of general exhortation to speak directly and forcefully to a particular – and particularly powerful – community of believers seeking guidance and direction from the pulpit.

75 Valencia cat. bib. MS 215, fols. 189va–190rb: Et sunt tres questiones quas faciet Christus: prima, quomodo intrasti? Secundo, quomodo uixisti? Tercio, quomodo rexisti? …¦ … De istis conqueritur Dominus per Oseam, ipsi regnauerunt, et non ex me; principes facti sunt, et non cognoui [Hos. 8:4]. Gregorius in pastorali: ex se namque, et non ex arbitrio rectoris summi regnant, qui nullis fulti uirtutibus nequaquam Domino uocante, set sua libidine accensi culmen honoris rapiunt pocius quam assequantur [Regula pastoralis, .1]. Hec ad litteram de malis principibus ecclesiasticis dicuntur, quia episcopi et prelati principes sunt. Vnde de pentitentia distinctione  capitulo ultimo [Decretum, prima pars, d.69, c.6] alloquitur Romam in morte apostolorum Petri et Pauli…: non putes te desertam, quia non uides Paulum, quia non uides Petrum, quia non uides illos per quos nata es; de prole tua tibi creuit paternitas, pro patribus tuis nati sunt tibi ﬁlii, constitues eos principes super omnem terram [Ps. 44:17] … ecclesia illos genuit, et pro patribus suis eos constituit super omnem terram [Augustinus, Enarrationes in psalmos, .32]. Et premiserat, hodie qui per totum mundum sunt episcopi, inde nati sunt? Ecclesia illos patres appellat; ecclesia illos genuit, et patribus suis in sedibus patrum collocauit [Enarrationes in psalmos, .32], scilicet apostolorum, quorum locum, sedem et dignitatem tenent. …¦… Ecce, probatum est quod episcopi et prelati tenent locum apostolorum, qui fuerunt a Deo constituti principes super omnem terram. Princeps qui uult alios regere et regulare, primo se ipsum debet in omnibus ordinare, ut uires sensitiue obediunt racioni et corpus seruiant [SIC] anime.

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Relatively little has been published on preaching at papal Avignon, though the following works treat important aspects of the phenomenon. Works indicated with an asterisk (*) do not address themselves primarily to the subject of Avignonese curial preaching, but do touch upon the subject in the course of broader discussions. Beattie, Blake, ‘‘Lawyers, Law and Sanctity in Sermons from Papal Avignon,’’ in Models of Holiness in Medieval Sermons, ed. Beverly M. Kienzle, E.W. Dolnikowski, Rosemary Drage Hall, Darleen Pryds and Anne T. Thayer, Fédération Internationale des Instituts d’Études Médiévales, Textes et Études du Moyen Âge (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1996), pp. 259–82. — ,‘‘The Preaching of the Cardinals at Papal Avignon,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 38 (Autumn 1996), 17–37. —, ‘‘The Sermon as Speculum Principis: A Curial Sermon by Luca Mannelli, O.P.,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 42 (Autumn 1998), 26–51. Dykmans, Marc, ‘‘Jean , et les Carmes. La controverse de la Vision,’’ Carmelus 17 (1970), 151–192.* —, ed., Le cérémonial papal, 2: De Rome en Avignon, ou le cérémonial de Jacques Stefaneschi (Brussels/Rome, 1981).* —, ‘‘Le dernier sermon de Guillaume d’Alnwick,’’ Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 62 (1970), 259–79. Guillemain, Bernard, La cour pontiﬁcale d’Avignon. Étude d’une société (Paris, 1966).* Kaeppeli, Thomas, ‘‘Predigt am päpstlichen Hof von Avignon,’’ Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 19 (1949), 388–93. O’Malley, John W., Praise and Blame in Renaissance Rome: Rhetoric, Doctrine, and Reform in the Sacred Orators of the Papal Court, c. 1450–1521 (Duke University Press, 1979).* Walsh, Katherine, A Fourteenth-Century Scholar and Primate. Richard FitzRalph in Oxford, Avignon and Armagh (Oxford, 1981).*

PART FOUR

PREACHING AND PERFORMANCE

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CHAPTER FIVE

MEDIEVAL SERMONS AND THEIR PERFORMANCE: THEORY AND RECORD Beverly Mayne Kienzle (Harvard University) Scholars confront medieval sermons in written record, separated from the performance carried out by a preacher in a speciﬁc historical setting. Although some sermons were composed or preserved for the purpose of private reading, the sermon genre remains essentially oral and performative. Deprived of the preacher’s gestures, facial expressions, modulations of voice and emotion, and the audience’s response, scholars of medieval studies encounter the extant evidence of preaching and search for traces of orality and performance. This essay explores three broad questions related to the historian of preaching’s task in reconstructing a lost event: the sermon’s actual performance. First, how may modern performance theory contribute to the study of medieval sermons? Second, how did medieval authors view the performance of sermons? Do the artes praedicandi, manuals on formal composition, also deal with the delivery of the sermon? Third, what sorts of historical evidence do we have for the performance of sermons and what does it show about preachers, performance, and compliance with the artes praedicandi?1 Performance theory Studies of performance address the relationship between a performer and an audience, generally emphasizing either the activities of the performer or the role of the audience – the community for

1 I am grateful for suggestions from Fr. Louis-Jacques Bataillon, Claire Waters, and the editor of this volume.

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which the performance takes place.2 We shall consider how the work of a few theorists can apply to medieval sermon studies. This will not furnish a complete survey of the vast literature on performance theory nor its possible applications for sermonists, but it will open the ﬁeld for further study.3 Performance theory emerged in part from speech act theory, pioneered by J. L. Austin who distinguished utterances as ‘‘locutionary’’, which make a simple statement, ‘‘illocutionary’’, which seek to have an eﬀect and invite a response, and ‘‘perlocutionary’’ or ‘‘performative’’, which achieve their eﬀect. Austin developed categories of verbs that belong to each sort of utterance and also determined that performative speech acts have the requisites of social convention and context.4 These concepts are useful for analyzing the language of sermons; verbs characteristic of illocutionary speech occur with frequency in preaching. Moreover, Austin’s discussion of convention and context can be applied to debates over what constitutes preaching when the underlying issues are authority and authorization. Convention, as deﬁned by ecclesiastical tradition, determined that the speech acts of women and dissidents did not represent sermons. Yet in certain contexts, communities that broke with conventional limitations, the utterances of women and dissidents, although not authorized by the Church, were considered authoritative. Those communities developed their own conventions.5 The attention to context relates to the concept of ‘‘framing’’–the conceptual framework that the mind uses to interpret actions or messages. Gregory Bateson developed the notion of the psychological frame, which delimits logical types and aids the mind to inter-

2 Marvin Carlson, Performance: A critical introduction (London/New York: 1996), pp. 5-6, 38. 3 For additional reading on performance theory, see Carlson, Performance, and Catherine Bell, Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice (New York/Oxford: 1992), pp. 37-46. 4 J. L. Austin, How to Do Things with Words (Cambridge, Mass., 1955), pp. 6-13, 11621. The current essay extends the preliminary discussion of speech act theory and sermon studies in Beverly M. Kienzle, ‘‘Introduction’’, The Sermon, Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental fasc. 81-83 (Turnhout, 2000), p. 156. Bell, Ritual Theory, discusses important objections and modiﬁcations to Austin, notably the work of Stanley Tambiah. 5 See the essays in Women Preachers and Prophets Through Two Millennia of Christianity, ed. Beverly M. Kienzle and Pamela J. Walker (Berkeley, 1998).

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pret messages or meaningful actions.6 Social scientists and theorists have extended this notion to emphasize context in the analysis of performance.7 Mary Suydam, in exploring the potential of performance theory for studying medieval religious women, observes that the framing for a particular performance involves the space where it takes place, the people participating, the objects or symbols they use, and the sort of speech they utilize.8 Applying the concept of framing to preaching sharpens the awareness of assumptions made in deﬁning the sermon: a sermon accepted as such generally was delivered by an authorized cleric using expected patterns of language; and it took place in an authorized location such as a church and within it at a special site such as the pulpit or the bishop’s chair. Large crowds also gathered for sermons outside church buildings and listened to preachers in the church square, churchyard, or speaking from stone pulpits constructed on the outside wall of some churches.9 In reaction to public preaching by twelfth-century dissidents, some legislation indicates opposition to preaching outside the church, even by authorized clerics.10 Likewise, debates over unauthorized preaching often singled out the secrecy or inappropriateness of the location as grounds for not recognizing the authority of dissident sermons.11 Nonetheless, the Middle Ages, especially after the advent of the 6

Gregory Bateson, Steps to an Ecology of Mind (New York, 1978), pp. 188-9. Carlson, Performance, p. 18. 8 Mary Suydam, ‘‘Background: An Introduction to Performance Studies,’’ in Performance and Transformation. New Approaches to Late Medieval Spirituality, ed. Mary A. Suydam and Joanna E. Zeigler (New York, 1999), pp. 1-26, at 11. Suydam’s overview will provide a basis for furthering the discussion here. 9 On the location of preaching, see Albert Lecoy de la Marche, La chaire française au moyen âge (Paris, 1886; repr. Geneva, 1974), pp. 228-32. On English preaching in churchyards and marketplaces, see H.L. Spencer, English Preaching in the Late Middle Ages (Oxford, 1993), p. 71. On preparations for preaching in the piazza, see Cynthia L. Polecritti, Preaching Peace in Renaissance Italy. Bernardino of Siena and His Audience (Washington, D.C., 2000), p. 68; and on construction of stages and scaﬀolding outside cities, see Augustine Thompson, Revival Preachers and Politics in Thirteenth-Century Italy (Oxford, 1992), pp. 92-3. 10 The Council of Angers (1448) forbade preaching outside the church. See Phyllis Barzillay Roberts, Stephanus de Lingua-Tonante, Studies in the Sermons of Stephen Langton, Toronto, 1968, p. 48; and Lecoy de la Marche, La chaire française, pp. 228-29. 11 See Beverly Mayne Kienzle, ‘‘Holiness and Obedience: Denouncement of Twelfth-Century Waldensian Lay Preaching,’’ in The Devil, Heresy and Witchcraft. Essays in Honor of Jeﬀrey B. Russell, ed. Alberto Ferreiro (Leiden, 1998), pp. 259-78; and Beverly Mayne Kienzle, ‘‘Preaching as Touchstone of Orthodoxy and Dissidence in the Middle Ages,’’ in Medieval Sermon Studies 43 (1999), 18-53. 7

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mendicants, witnessed much outdoor preaching – in the public squares, during processions, and even at cemeteries, which provided an eﬀective venue for preaching about death.12 Eﬀectiveness represents one of the preacher’s major concerns, and the work of performance theorists sheds light on how eﬃcacy separates the sermon from other types of public performances. Richard Schechner establishes an important diﬀerentiation between ritual and theater. He sets out the ‘‘eﬃcacy-entertainment braid’’, a schema for representing the ﬂuctuating dominance of eﬃcacy and entertainment throughout the history of Western theater. The two poles of the braid, eﬃcacy and entertainment, are always in tension. While cautioning that, ‘‘No performance is pure eﬃcacy or pure entertainment,’’ he asserts that the distinction between ritual, aimed at eﬃcacy, and theater, directed toward entertainment, depends primarily on the context and function of a performance. A performance that aims to be eﬃcacious, to eﬀect a transformation of the audience, generally possesses various qualities that pertain to eﬃcacy (results, link to an absent Other, and so on), and vice versa for the performance that intends to entertain. In Schechner’s analysis, eﬃcacy was the dominant concern for the performance of medieval plays and church rituals, whereas ‘‘bards and troubadours’’ intended to provide entertainment.13 Following Schechner’s assertion that eﬃcacy dominates in liturgy and ritual, one observes that the sermon, both belonging to and diﬀering from its liturgical/ritual context, desires to be eﬃcacious and to transform. It is more ritual than theatre. On the other hand, the sermon sometimes entertains, even though the artes praedicandi take a cautious stance on the subject. The tension between eﬃcacy and entertainment, which Schechner elaborates for theatre, applies to discussions of sermons as well. The entertaining potential for sermons and the dramatic reputation of some medieval preachers leads to further exploration of relationships between the sermon and drama. The work of Manfred Pﬁster, who diﬀerentiates drama from other forms of litera12 Hervé Martin, Le métier du prédicateur en France septentrionale à la ﬁn du moyen âge (1350-1520) (Paris, 1988), pp. 553-55. See also Thompson, Revival Preachers, pp. 92-3, for examples from the Alleluia preaching. 13 Richard Schechner, Essays in Performance Theory (1971; repr. New York, 1988), pp. 120-22. Schechner, p. 262, also provides a scheme for distinguishing types of frames for performances.

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ture, can be applied to the comparison of sermons and drama. Pﬁster speaks of the ‘‘multimediality’’ of dramatic texts: they employ acoustic and visual codes and channels, such as voice quality and intonation among the former and gestures and properties of the setting among the latter. Furthermore, dramatic texts have two layers: ﬁrst, the literary text and the enactment it requires; second, the features that are added by the production. Pﬁster also observes that drama diﬀers from literature in its ‘‘collectivity’’ of reception and production; that is, it requires an audience and is produced by a group of players.14 Pﬁster’s concept of ‘‘multimediality’’ proves useful for the analysis of sermons: they also entail acoustic and visual elements, including physical movement. Moreover, sermon texts contain a dual layering: some indications of what the preacher and audience actually did, and a second layer of production that historians attempt to reconstruct. Furthermore, the sermon, like the theatre, has a collective reception. A sermon generally is produced by one person, however, and not by a group of players. Nonetheless, sermons differ importantly from theatre in two requisites for their performance: the preacher is expected to meet moral requisites and to serve as an intermediary for God’s word; and the sermon’s purpose is unequivocally moral and religious. Such an aim may be present in theatre but is not a requisite of the genre. Medieval theories of preaching frequently recognize the parallel between theatre and preaching, as we shall see, but in order to warn the preacher not to move into the realm of theatre. The relationship of performance and authority is explored by Maurice Bloch, who observes how religious speech, if it is to be perceived as authoritative and sacred, must conform to ﬁxed patterns. Bloch discusses the diﬀerences between everyday and ‘‘formalised’’ speech, the latter being associated with power and authority. Formalization of language occurs in two major anthropological categories, religious ritual and traditional authority. Bloch refers speciﬁcally to sermons as examples of ‘‘formalised oratory in a religious context’’. Within the context of ritual, Bloch observes that the religious leader attains power through giving up individual expres-

14 Manfred Pﬁster, The Theory and Analysis of Drama (Cambridge, 1988) pp. 6-12; summarized by Suydam, ‘‘Background,’’ pp. 6-7.

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sion and speaking for a supernatural being.15 The application of Bloch’s work to sermon studies is begun by Claire Sahlin, who relates his study of ritualized speech to the performance of Birgitta of Sweden’s Revelations. Male clerics, vested with authority, performed her message, and even in her presence, mediated between her and her audience. Thus her word gained authority when she relinquished her own voice to that of someone recognized as authoritative.16 Finally, performance theory draws on post-modern theories of social construction to emphasize that repeated performances play a role in constructing identity.17 While medieval preaching theory treats the preacher’s identity primarily in terms of commission and inspiration, we can ask whether the medieval preacher constructed his or her identity through the performance of the sermon, or the performance expressed the ﬁxed identity of the preacher. Moreover, the postmodern view can prove helpful in analyzing how preachers, whether authorized or not, gained a hearing and constructed an authoritative identity. The artes praedicandi We turn now to ask how medieval authors viewed the performance of sermons and whether there are medieval notions of the key components of modern performance just surveyed: eﬃcaciousness and transformation in contrast to entertainment; multimediality and reception; social convention and context; framing; authoritative speech and surrender of individual expression; construction of social identity. To answer this, we look ﬁrst to theoretical works on preaching: 15 Maurice Bloch, ‘‘Symbols, Song, Dance and Features of Articulation: Is Religion a Form of Traditional Authority?’’ Archives européennes de sociologie 15 (1974), 55-81, at pp. 60, 68, 78. 16 Claire Sahlin, ‘‘Preaching and Prophesying: the Public Proclamation of Birgitta of Sweden’s Revelations,’’ in Performance and Transformation, pp. 69-96. Sahlin draws especially on Bloch, ‘‘Symbols, Song, Dance.’’ 17 See Carlson, Performance, pp. 48-51, on social constructionism, and 170-73, on feminist views on the construction of identity, including those of Judith Butler in Gender Trouble (New York, 1990). On the relevance of Butler’s work to the study of preaching, see Claire Waters, Doctrine Embodied: Gender, Performance, and Authority in Late-Medieval Preaching, Ph.D. Dissertation, Northwestern University, December 1998, p. 260.

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the artes praedicandi, which are studied primarily for their directives on the formal composition of sermons. Ideas on performance will be selected from several major treatises on preaching ranging from the early ﬁfth century to the ﬁfteenth: Augustine’s De doctrina christiana, Gregory the Great’s Regula Pastoralis, Guibert de Nogent’s Quo ordine sermo ﬁeri debeat, Alan of Lille’s Summa de arte praedicatoria, Thomas Chobham’s Summa de arte praedicandi, Humbert de Romans’ De eruditione praedicatorum, Thomas Waleys’ De modo componendi sermones, Robert of Basevorn’s Forma praedicandi, Francesc Eiximenis’ Ars praedicandi populo.18 Augustine’s De doctrina christiana, Book , provides the foundation for Christian theories of preaching. Writing around 427, the bishop deals with eloquence in general, explaining how Cicero’s three styles of speaking (parva, modica, magna) must be varied for Christian preachers. Augustine also gives speciﬁc recommendations for composition, performance, and judging the audience’s reaction, although performance is not the highest of his concerns. A few examples will illustrate the range of Augustine’s advice: he warns against overuse of rhythm, which could impair the seriousness of divine writing; he furnishes examples of voice modulation for reading Romans 5, 3–5 and then the prophet Amos; he alerts the preacher about signs to observe in silent listeners; and he describes demonstrative reactions such as groans and tears when an active congregation responds to the grand style, or applause when the audience reacts to the subdued or moderate style.19 These audience responses provide barometers for the eﬃcaciousness of the sermon. Augustine’s concern for eﬃcaciousness dominates his work and 18 A full list and description of the artes praedicandi is found in Marianne Briscoe, Artes praedicandi and Barbara H. Jaye, Artes orandi, Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 61 (Turnhout, 1992) pp. 17-76. Another category of texts for exploration of preaching theory, although beyond the limits of this essay, is the prothemata. See JohannBaptist Schneyer, Die Unterweisung der Gemeinde uber die Predigt bei scholastischen Predigern, Veroﬀentlichungen des Grabmann-Institutes zur Erforschung der Mittelalterlichen Theologie und Philosophie, n. F., 4 (Munich, 1968). I am grateful to Louis-Jacques Bataillon for this suggestion. 19 Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, trans. D. W. Robertson, Jr. (Indianapolis, Ind., 1984) Book 4, pp. 117-69. On the three styles of speech, 4..-.58; against overuse of rhythm, 4..41; examples of voice modulation, 4..11-21; silent listeners, 4..25; and audience reactions, 4..53. De doctrina christiana, ed. Joseph Martin, Corpus Christianorum Series Latina 32 (Turnhout, 1962) pp. 1-167, at pp. 141–63, 148, 123–31, 133–34, 159–60. Jody Enders, Rhetoric and the Origins of Medieval Drama (Ithaca, 1992), p. 31, describes Augustine as trying to ‘‘imbue delivery with Christian morality.’’

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that of his successors. Teaching one’s listeners ranks above delighting and moving them; the ﬁrst being a necessity and the other two not.20 Correspondingly the great bishop frowns on the possibility that preaching holds for entertainment. Augustine criticized spectacles and his distrust of theatre and the rhetorical ornaments of his former profession must have inﬂuenced him to caution the preacher to prize moderation.21 Moreover, the preacher teaches best by the example of his life, as the bishop advises: ‘‘let him order his life … so that he oﬀers an example to others, and his way of living may be … an eloquent speech’’.22 The idea that the preacher’s way of life represents the most eﬀective preaching establishes a key component of medieval preaching theory, one that we may term moral performance. The sermon’s potential for transforming the audience depends closely on the preacher’s moral ﬁber. This concept of moral performance remains a mainstay of preaching theory and probably receives its most inﬂuential development in the Regula pastoralis of Gregory the Great. Book  of the Regula concerns the responsibility of directing souls and the few who are worthy to assume the task. Book  focuses on the moral qualities of the good pastor and also treats the duty to preach. Among many images, Gregory draws on Caesarius of Arles and others’ use of Exodus 28, 35: the golden bell on Aaron’s robe that should sound when he enters the holy place. Gregory counsels the preacher to clothe himself with the bells of righteous deeds; those along with his voice signal the path for his congregation to follow. Gregory devotes Book  of the Regula to advising preachers on adapting the content and tone of their sermons in accord with the moral and social proﬁle of the audience. He repeatedly alludes to

20 De doctrina christiana, 4..27-28, pp. 135–36. The artes praedicandi generally preserve this point of view until Antoninus of Florence, writing in the ﬁfteenth century and showing the inﬂuence of humanism and Ciceronian rhetoric, advises the preacher equally to delight and move the listener. See Peter Francis Howard, Beyond the Written Word. Preaching and Theology in the Florence of Archbishop Antoninus 1427-1459 (Florence, 1995), p. 114. 21 Augustine, Confessions, ed. and trans. Pierre de Labriolle, 2 vols. (Paris, 1969): 1..27(p. 23); 3..2-4 (pp. 46-8); 3..6 (pp. 48-9); 4..1-.2 (pp. 66-7); 9..7-.13 (pp. 213-19). 22 De doctrina christiana, 4..61, 165: Si autem ne hoc quidem potest, ita conversetur, ut non solum sibi praemium comparet, sed et praebeat aliis exemplum, et sit ejus quasi copia dicendi forma vivendi.

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the necessity of the preacher’s good moral example, ending Book  with an exhortation on its importance. There Gregory states: ‘‘any preacher must make himself heard more by actions than by words; more by living well than by speaking, he should leave footsteps for [his ﬂock] to follow and show them where to tread.’’ In terms of modern theory the preacher constructs a moral identity that constitutes the basis for authority. The concept of moral performance entails for Gregory, like Augustine, a distrust of theatre. Actors are to be watched and not imitated, while preachers must oﬀer a model for imitation. Nonetheless, Gregory compares the preacher’s listeners to spectators and urges them also to be actors, entering the arena like Pauline athletes (1 Corinthians 9: 24–27).23 Augustine and Gregory’s ideas on moral performance ﬁgure importantly in the ﬁrst major ars praedicandi of the High Middle Ages: the De arte praedicatoria of Alan of Lille, written around 1200. Alan speciﬁes preaching by deed as his third homiletic category, since ‘‘Every work of Christ is our instruction.’’ He recommends that the preacher ‘‘perform by his actions what he propounds by his voice.’’ His person should demonstrate humility. Hence, the performance of good deeds is preaching; actions have a moral voice.24 Alan thus echoes Augustine and emphasizes the construction of moral identity, eﬃcaciousness, and moral transformation. Authors of later artes praedicandi consistently repeat this concern for moral performance. The Franciscan Rule ‘‘non bullata’’ echoes it: ‘‘fratres operibus predicent.’’25 Robert of Basevorn states that the ﬁrst requirement for the preacher is purity of life, without remorse of con23 Gregory the Great, Regula pastoralis, Règle pastorale, Intro. Bruno Judic, ed. Floribert Rommel, trans. Charles Morel, 2 vols., Source chrétiennes 381-382 (Paris, 1992) vol. 1, .4, pp. 190-92; vol. 2, .40, p. 531: … ut praedicator quisque plus actibus quam vocibus insonet, et bene vivendo vestigia sequacibus imprimat quam loquendo quo gradiantur ostendat. On the faithful as spectators and athletes, see vol. 2, .., pp. 308-310; vol. 1, ‘‘Introduction,’’ p. 49. On Ex 28: 35, see vol. 1, ‘‘Introduction,’’ p. 59. On the inﬂuence of Augustine’s De doctrina christiana, De cathechizandis rudibus (p. 405) and his style and thought in general on Gregory’s Regula pastoralis, see vol. 1, ‘‘Introduction,’’ pp. 39-56. 24 Alan of Lille, Summa de arte praedicatoria, Patrologia Latina, ed. J.P. Migne, 221 vols. (Paris, 1844-64) (henceforth, PL), vol. 210, p. 113: Sunt autem tres species praedicationis…Alia est in facto, unde dicitur: ‘‘Omnis Christi actio nostra est instructio’’; PL, vol. 210, p. 152: …praedicator debet habere in opere quod proponit in voce; PL, vol. 210, p. 113: … praedicator debet captare benevolentiam auditorum a propia persona per humilitatem ... 25 Regola ‘‘non bullata’’ Chap. 17, p. 3. See Raoul Manselli, ‘‘Il gesto come predicazione per San Francesco d’Assisi,’’ in Collectanea Franciscana 1991, pp. 5-16, at 5.

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science for any mortal sin. One who preaches without meeting that requirement commits mortal sin.26 Thomas Waleys likewise warns that the preacher should not be in a state of mortal sin.27 Francesc Eiximenis admonishes a preacher to be truthful in speech and righteousness of life. Moral attributes of the preacher include humility, patience, ﬂexibility and kindness.28 These authors of the artes praedicandi do not, however, treat the preacher’s construction of moral identity as clearly as their predecessors. The actual delivery of a sermon, the actio or pronuntiatio of classical rhetoric, receives far less attention in medieval preaching theory than does the content and composition of sermons. Augustine, Gregory, and most of their successors discuss delivery only brieﬂy. This doubtless reﬂects the conventional distrust of rhetorical ornament.29 Several theorists caution against excess, be it of language or gestures, that could detract from the sermon’s eﬃcaciousness. Guibert de Nogent warns against ornamentation of speech that would undermine the preacher’s message.30 Alan of Lille, in advising a certain seriousness that avoids buﬀoonery, weighs against theatrical preaching and speciﬁes that sermons should contain no ‘‘jesting words or childish comments’’ or ‘‘melodiousness and harmony’’ achieved through ‘‘rhythm or metrical lines’’.31 Similar opinions emerge in subequent artes praedicandi, such as those of Humbert de Romans, Thomas Waleys, the anonymous Ars concionandi formerly attributed to Bonaventure, and Francesc Eixemenis. Humbert de Romans, calling on Augustine’s authority, advises that

26 Robert of Basevorn, Forma praedicandi, in Les Artes praedicandi: Contribution à l’étude de la rhétorique au moyen âge, ed. Th. M. Charland (Paris, 1936) p. 240: Tria enim sunt necessaria actum praedicationis exercenti, scilicet puritas vitae, sine remorsu conscientiae de aliquo mortali; aliter, secundum doctores, peccat mortaliter praedicator. 27 Thomas Waleys, De modo componendi sermones cum documentis, in Charland, Artes praedicandi, p. 330: Caveat igitur praedicator ne accessurus ad tam divinum oﬃcium exsequendum sit in aliquo peccato mortali... 28 Francesc Eiximenis, Ars praedicandi popolo, in P. Martí de Barcelona, ‘‘L’ars praedicandi de Francesc Eiximenis,’’ Analecta Sacra Tarraconensia 12 (1936), 301-40, at 307-8. 29 See Harry Caplan, ‘‘Classical Rhetoric and the Mediaeval Theory of Preaching,’’ Speculum 28 (1933), 73-96, at 80-84, on attitudes toward rhetoric; and Jody Enders, Rhetoric and the Origins of Medieval Drama (Ithaca, 1992), who explores the relationship of legal rhetoric and drama. 30 Guibert of Nogent, Quo ordine sermo ﬁeri debeat, PL, vol. 156, p. 30; Waters, Doctrine Embodied, p. 50. 31 Alan of Lille, Summa de arte praedicatoria, PL, vol. 210, p. 112: Praedicatio enim in se, non debet habere verba scurrilia, vel puerilia, vel rhythmorum melodias et consonantias metrorum…

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the sermon should possess simplicity and no attention to rhetorical ornament.32 The Ars concionandi issues a similar caution: excessively ornate speech must be avoided.33 Thomas Waleys states that too many plays on words make the preacher seem more like a jester.34 Francesc Eiximenis issues a strong threat of punishment against ornamental language. Preachers who resort to verba picta, rimata et rethorice ornata show contempt for the word of God and scandalize their audiences. Some ‘‘wind-bags’’ merit severe punishment: they even die before their time, or lose the use of the tongue or some other organ necessary for speaking.35 Thus excessively ornamented language transgresses the appropriate ‘‘framing’’ for a sermon. Within the limited treatment of sermon delivery, modes of locution receive consistent attention in the artes praedicandi. Hildebert of Lavardin uses the term operatio for delivery of the sermon and advises preachers to be mindful of modes of locution (harsh and mild); one who heeds the proper mode and who practices moderation and possesses grace of speech.36 Stressing that preaching provides instruction and not entertainment, Alan of Lille considers forceful speech appropriate: the sermon should ‘‘rain down doctrines, thunder forth admonitions, soothe with praises.’’ Alan also allows for emotive speech: the preacher may ‘‘introduce moving words which soften hearts and encourage tears.’’ Nonetheless, restraint is necessary. If the audience begins to weep, then the preacher should ‘‘hold back a little, but not too much.’’37 Philip of 32 Humbert of Romans, De eruditione praedicatorum, in B. Humberti de Romanis Opera de vita regulari, ed. Joachim Joseph Berthier, 2 vols., Rome, 1888-1889, vol. 2, pp. 373484, at 403. Humbert includes a section (28, pp. 444-5) on eﬃcaciousness, the ten fruits of the best preaching. 33 Waters, Doctrine Embodied, includes this, p. 55, and other examples with an interesting discussion of ornate language. 34 Waleys, De modo componendi sermones, p. 373: et si ﬁant [isti colores rhythmici] in excessum… valde oﬀendunt, quia fructum sermonis impediunt, et vanitatem praedicatoris manifeste ostendunt, qui potius videtur praetendere personam joculatoris quam praedicatoris. 35 Eiximenis, Ars praedicandi populo, 6: Sepe vidimus in talibus predicatoribus ventosis quod moriuntur ante tempus suum et tunc vel perdunt usum lingue vel alterius organi necessarii ad loquendum…. 36 Hildebert of Lavardin, In die Pentecostes Sermo secundus, PL, vol. 171, p. 595: Gratiam linguae habet qui locutionis modos observare cognovit. 37 Alan of Lille, De arte praedicatoria, PL, vol. 210, p. 113: In sententiis vero debet habere praedicatio pondus, ut virtute sententiarum animos auditorum emolliat, excitet mentem, pariat contritionem, compluat doctrinis, tonet minis, blandiatur promissis, et ita tota tendat ad utilitatem proximorum. PL, vol. 210, p. 114: Verba etiam commotiva interserat, quae mentes emolliant, et lacrymas pariant. Sit autem sermo compendiosus, ne prolixitas pariat fastidium. Postquam autem

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Harvengt advises the preacher not to proclaim softly or in a lukewarm way, but to raise his voice like a trumpet and call listeners to battle against the invisible armies.38 A similar energy appears in Hélinand of Froidmont’s advice to preachers to use words as a goad and nail (Ecclesiastes 12: 11), following when necessary the strong rebuke of Jesus when he cast the money-changers out from the temple, or John the Baptist when he rebuked Herod for adultery.39 Robert of Basevorn discusses moderation of voice (vocis discretio), citing Augustine’s De doctrina christiana on levels of discourse. Some matters, Basevorn advises, should be uttered mildly (blande dicenda); others with a very sharp tone (acutissimo accentu), if they touch on judgment, death, and Hell. At times it is necessary to move from a subdued to a sharp mode in order to change the mind of a listener.40 According to Thomas Waleys, the sermon ﬁnds its greatest strength in the mode of its speech and delivery. The preacher’s speech should be understandable and pleasing (intelligibilem et allectivum), not too loud or too soft. A shouting preacher is not heard or understood; neither can a lowered voice be grasped by an audience that is large or far away. The novice preacher should rehearse privately his manner of speech and locution, correcting any speech defect (vitium linguae) such as poor voice quality or mispronunciation of the letters ‘‘R’’ or ‘‘S’’. Furthermore, the preacher should moderate the speech of his sermon and weigh seriously the words of others that he incorporates. He should not speak like a magpie ( pica), without understanding the words he utters.41 Francesc Eiximenis cautions that no one tone suits all preaching, but the tone should not be too lofty or too low. He urges the preacher to speak with great fervor, for lukewarm and lax speakers will not

praedicator perpenderet animos esse mollitos, et proﬂuere lacrymas, ac vultus humiliari, debet aliquantulum immorari, sed non nimis… 38 Philip of Harvengt, De institutione clericorum, PL, vol. 203, p. 977: Eum qui praedicat non solum vult Dominus clamare, sed a clamando non cessare, et non tenuiter, non mediocriter, sed in modum tubae vocem praecipit exaltare, forte ut auditores eﬃcaciter possit ad praelium excitare…. Per quam tubam praedicator non incongrue ﬁguratur qui ﬁdelium animos ad expugnandum hostes invisibiles exhortatur… 39 Hélinand of Froidmont, Sermo , In Ramis Palmarum , PL, vol. 212, p. 571C: …praedicator verbi Dei non palpare peccata debet, sed ferire et pungere, sicut scriptum est: ‘‘Verba sapientium quasi stimuli, et quasi clavi in altum deﬁxi’’. 40 Basevorn, Forma praedicandi, p. 320. 41 Waleys, De modo componendi sermones, p. 333, on the mode of speech; p. 336, on not resembling the magpie; p. 340, on correcting speech defects.

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move their audience’s hearts. However, fervor must be prudent and moderate, remaining within the bounds of reason.With an eschatological view, he warns that laxity and immoderate fervor work like two wheels that lead the preacher to perdition.42 The modern concept of framing, including appropriate speech, sharpens this notion of stylistic boundaries that the preacher should preserve. Eﬃcaciousness and transformation of the audience consistently stand as the sermon’s goals. Gestures, like elaborate language, provoke caution and often disapproval from authors of the artes praedicandi. This negative view was doubtless inﬂuenced by the distrust of theatre: the preacher should not cross the boundary from delivering the sermon to acting.43 Thomas Chobham cautions that the preacher should not display ﬂaming eyes and hands waving like those of ﬁghters ( pugnantium) or pantomimes ( gesticulantium). Gestures may seem foolish and make the preacher appear to be an actor.44 Robert of Basevorn cites his predecessor Hugh of St Victor, advising that the preacher speak with his mouth only, not extending his arms like those pleading a case ( placitatores), or shaking his head like a thief, or averting his eyes like a hypocrite.45 Medieval theorists signal gestures as an indicator of theatre much as Pﬁster incorporates them into his notion of multimediality. Some medieval theorists, however, accord a value to appropriate gestures. Thomas Chobham underscores the notion of moderation of facial expression and gesture in the preacher’s delivery ( pronuntiatio).46 Thomas Waleys, whose fourteenth-century treatise accords more attention to delivery than other artes praedicandi, advises the preacher not to stand still like a statue but to employ suit-

42

Eiximenis, Ars praedicandi populo, p. 316. See Waters, Doctrine Embodied, pp. 256-78. Similar arguments are made by Peter the Chanter, Verbum abbreviatum, PL, vol. 205, p. 35, who asserts that the disputator should not gesticulate like an actor or move like a wrestler. See also Jean-Claude Schmitt, La raison des gestes dans l’occident médiéval (Paris, 1990), pp. 280-81. 44 Thomas of Chobham, Summa de arte praedicandi, ed. Franco Morenzoni, Corpus Christianorum, Continuatio Medievalis 82 (Turnhout, 1998), p. 303: … Unde, manifeste patet quod qui in predicatione tales gestus faciunt, stulti reputantur, et magis videntur esse histriones quam predicatores. 45 Basevorn, Forma praedicandi, p. 320: Gestus convenientia, sicut Hugo docet, De institutione novitiorum, ut loquens solo ore loquatur, non nimis extendat brachia sicut placitatores, non nimis agitet caput more furentis, non nimis invertat oculos more hypocritae… 46 Chobham, Summa de arte praedicandi, p. 302. 43

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able gestures so as not to scandalize his hearers. He cautions against excessive turning of the body, bobbing of the head, or waving of arms. Moreover, he attests to seeing preachers whose exaggerated movements made them appear to rave or enter into single combat with someone, so much that they would have thrown themselves from the pulpit, if someone had not prevented it. Rehearsal of gestures, like that of locution, proves necessary. The preacher should ﬁnd a secret place and practice delivering sermons to trees and stones. During these practice sessions, he should take care to control his gestures and practice those that he intends to use publicly.47 Paradoxically, the preacher adopts the theatrical practice of rehearsal in order to achieve the moderation that avoids theatrical excess.Transgressing the sermon’s usual authoritative frame, public space, is advisable for rehearsal. Finally, Francesc Eiximenis advises that gestures and facial expressions be appropriate for the sermon’s content: a joyful face utters things joyously; a sad countenance voices sad aﬀairs; a fearful expression beﬁts frightening matters, and so on.48 Despite the cautions against entertaining speech or gestures, theorists of preaching acknowledge the eﬀectiveness of a preacher who is a good storyteller. Jacques de Vitry notes that exempla come to life through delivery – the preacher’s speech and gestures. Humbert de Romans implicitly agrees but adds the caution that some preachers are better raconteurs than others.The less gifted narrators do better to focus on techniques that they employ successfully.49 Jacques is 47 Waleys, De modo componendi sermones, p. 332: Quintum documentum ad praedicatoris gestus et motus corporeos pertinet, ut scilicet dum praedicat debitam in hiis servet modestiam, ne videlicet sit velut statua immobilis, sed aliquos motus decentes ostendat. Valde tam caveat ne motibus inordinatis jactet corpus suum, nunc subito extollendo caput in altum, nunc subito deprimendo, nunc vertendo se ad dextrum, nunc subito cum mirabili celeritate se vertendo ad sinistrum , nunc ambas manus sic extendendo simul uasi posset simul orientem occidentemque complecti, nunc vero subito eas in unum conjungendo, nunc extendendo brachia ultra modem, nunc subito extrahendo. Vidi enim aliquos qui quoad alia in sermonibus [optime] se habebant, tamen ita motibus corporis se jactabant quod videbantur cum aliquo duellum inisse, seu potius insanisse, in tantum quod seipsos cum pulpito in quo stabant nisi alii succurissent praecipitassent. Tales motus praedicatorum non decent… On the new preacher’s practice, p. 339: Duodecimum documentum est ut novus praedicator, seu qui se primo ad praedicandum disponit, antequam ad praedicandum se exponat in publico, prius se conferat ad locum secretum a conspectu hominum, ubi nullus possit timeri irrisor, et ibi arboribus aut lapidibus incipiat praedicare et se exercere. Ibi studeat componere motus corporis sui, et in talibus motibus et gestibus se exerceat in privato quales postmodum intendit in publico exhibere. 48 Eiximenis, Ars praedicandi populo, p. 316. 49 Jacques de Vitry: … in … proverbiis similitudinibus et vulgaribus exemplis adtendendum est, quod non possunt ita exprimi scripto, sicut gestu et verbu atque pronuntiandi modo, nec ita movent

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careful to warn against telling oﬀ-color stories, which he forbids in sermons.50 Robert of Basevorn allows for amusing listeners with suitable joking ( jocatio) when they are bored and particularly when they fall asleep. However, some tales are out of bounds and even decent ones should not be used more than three times in one sermon. Robert deals with how to capture the listeners’ attention with stories. Those may inspire wonder or even dread, such as a tale narrated by Jacques de Vitry. At the funeral of someone unwilling to listen to sermons, an image of Christ appeared and covered his ears, refusing to listen to prayers on behalf of the deceased.51 The appropriateness of stories and storytelling belongs to the wider context of suitable speech, a component of the sermon’s framing. In brief, medieval theorists tackle some of the same notions as modern theorists. They touch on concepts that correspond to modern treatments of the tension between eﬃcacy and entertainment, multimediality, reception, framing, and construction of social identity in terms of moral authority. From theory to record After exploring medieval views on performance in preaching, we turn to the evidence for what medieval preachers did. What do we actually know about the delivery of medieval sermons? How did vel incitant auditores in ore unius, sicut in ore alterius… Thomas Frederick Crane, The Exempla or Illustrative Stories from the Sermones Vulgares of Jacques de Vitry (London, 1890), p. xliii. Humbert of Romans, De habundancia exemplorum, cited in J.-Th.Welter, L’Exemplum dans la littérature religieuse et didactique du moyen âge (Paris, 1927), pp. 72-3, n. 13: Sunt enim multi quibus data est major gracia loquendi per auctoritates, raciones vel interpretaciones vel aliis modis quam per exempla, circa que forte non habet graciosam narracionem et non expedit istis relinquere modum [docendi], in quo habent graciam propter illum in quo non habent. (Paris, B.N. Ms. Lat 15953, f. 188v). I am grateful to Claire Waters, Doctrine Embodied, pp. 128-29 for these examples. 50 Scurrilia tamen aut obscena verba vel turpi sermo ex ore praedicatoris non procedant. Crane, Exempla, p. xliii. See also Claude Bremond, Jacques Le Goﬀ, Jean-Claude Schmitt, L’Exemplum, Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 40 (Turnhout, 1982), pp. 94-5. 51 Basevorn, Forma praedicandi, p. 320; p. 261: alius est modus terrere eos aliqua narratione vel exemplo terribili, quemadmodum Jacobus de Vitriaco narra de quodam qui nunquam sponte voluit audire verbum Dei, tandem cum mortuus esset et delatus ad ecclesiam, et sacerdos, astante paroechia, incepisset commendationem, quae super corpora defunctorum dici solet, imago Christi stans inter chorum et ecclesiam avulsit et abstraxit manus suas proprias a clavis eas conﬁgentibus et a ligno cui inﬁgebantur, et obturavit aures suas, quasi innuens se nolle deprecationem, pro eo audire qui ipsum quondam in suis praedicatoribus audire contemnebat.

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preachers get the message across? Did they always follow the advice of the artes praedicandi and practice moderation in language and gestures? Did they sometimes engage in multimedia performances that skirted and transgressed the boundaries of preaching to enter the realm of theatre? Did they ever step outside the ‘‘frame’’ that the artes praedicandi admonished? Did performance contribute to constructing their identity and authority? A variety of sources provide evidence to answer these questions. The artes praedicandi themselves hint at transgressions when they cite unacceptable practices. Recall Thomas Waleys’ comments on preachers who nearly fall from the pulpit because of excessive gesticulation. Some sermons provide clues to this question when the preacher’s response to the audience is recorded. Indications of performance also can be traced in chronicles, hagiography, letters and other sources.52 All must be read with a cautionary eye to genre and intent, as Augustine Thompson advises elsewhere in this volume.53 The survey that follows, based primarily on continental sources from the High and Late Middle Ages, does not intend to be exhaustive but to provide an indication of the wealth of material to be explored. Many valuable texts cluster around famous preachers such as Bernard of Clairvaux and Bernardino da Siena. Late medieval Italian and French sources furnish the richest material identiﬁed to date. The performance of preaching was evaluated in terms of its eﬃcaciousness. An eﬀective preacher, or one seeking to be such, drew on a vast repertory of preaching instruments and aids. The familiar written preaching aids, among them the artes praedicandi and exempla collections, were supplemented by other resources, including visual aids, such as objects or local art, and the gestures against which the artes praedicandi warned. The preacher sometimes had recourse to translators, living aids to eﬃcaciousness, who translated the sermon into the native tongue(s) of the audience. Lastly, medieval preachers resorted to theatrical devices, or multimediality, 52 On indicators of orality see Kienzle, ‘‘Conclusion,’’ The Sermon, pp. 976-8; Roy De Ferrari, ‘‘Verbatim Reports of Augustine’s Unwritten Sermons,’’ in Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 46 (1915), 35-45; Christopher Holdsworth, ‘‘Were the Sermons of St Bernard on the Song of Songs ever Preached?’’, in Medieval Monastic Preaching, ed. Carolyn Muessig (Leiden, 1998), pp. 295-318. 53 See Augustine Thompson, ‘‘From Texts to Preaching: Retrieving the Medieval Sermon as an Event,’’ in this volume.

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combining visual aids, gestures, and even other players to bring the sermon’s message to life. Another phenomenon, the miracle, sometimes enhanced the preacher’s ability to persuade the audience. Miracles produced during the sermon demonstrated its eﬀectiveness dramatically. In this study the analysis of miracles and preaching will precede that of other cases where the sermon brought an immediate outcome. Frequently, the results produced from sermons were not supernatural but very human, ranging from weeping to legislative action and even mob violence. Although the impact of preaching was generally interior and most often not recorded, medieval chronicles and other sources do at times capture the immediate reactions to sermons. Medieval narrators then convey some of the performative force that a dynamic preacher commanded. Occasionally they also record sermons that failed to produce the results that the preacher desired. The remainder of this essay will ﬁrst examine aids to performance: visual aids, gestures, translators, and theatre. Then miracles occurring during and after sermons will be considered as a transitional step to surveying evidence for immediate and evident indications of eﬃcacious sermons. After an analysis of such evidence, a few examples of failures will conclude the overview of the record of medieval sermons as they were performed. Visual images One thinks ﬁrst of Franciscans when considering the preacher’s evocation of visual pictures, but other preachers practiced the same art. Thomas of Spalato described St Francis as preaching secundum modum concionandi, or in the style of public speaking, endeavouring to stimulate the imagination.54 Bernardino da Siena described visual images as a path for simple people to know God.55 Preachers

54 Daniel R. Lesnick, Preaching in Medieval Florence. The Social World of Franciscan and Dominican Spirituality (Athens, Ga./London, 1989), p. 137; See article in this volume by Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, ‘‘The Preacher as Goldsmith: The Italian Preachers’ Use of the Visual Arts’’. See also Franco Mormondo, The Preacher’s Demons. Bernardino of Siena and the Social Underworld of Early Renaissance Italy (Chicago, 1999), pp. 15-16. 55 Bernardino da Siena, Le prediche volgari (Siena, 1425) 2 vols., ed. C. Cannarozzi

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also resorted to objects visible to the audience, and Bernardino created the emblem of the Holy Name of Jesus: the letters IHS situated on a blue background and surrounded by rays of light. Bernardino’s sermons promoted the cult and his audience reacted with signs of devotion, weeping, reverencing the emblem, kissing and embracing it.56 Roberto da Lecce employed a cruciﬁx and crown of thorns as well as dramatic gestures to intensify his preaching. His display of a cruciﬁx proved eﬀective for peacemaking in Perugia in 1448.57 The friar Jean Bourgeois showed the residents of ﬁfteenth-century Besançon some pieces of straw, brought from Jerusalem, which he claimed to have acquired from the manger of Christ. To the citizens of Angers in 1491, he brandished a skull during his sermons.58 In a similar vein, Michel Menot and others delivered sermons in cemeteries to intensify the listeners’ dread of the Judgment with the sight of the surrounding graves.59 French preachers also evoked images well planted in popular imagination from art and literature, such as the Danse macabre and the Wheel of Fortune.60 Bernardino of Siena’s sermons also evoke visual images from the art that adorned his preaching venues. Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby discusses sermons from 1425 and 1427, delivered in Siena, that describe monuments and works of art, including the paintings of Ambrogio Lorenzetti and Simone Martini. In a well-known 1425 sermon, Bernardino commented on the Lorenzetti frescoes in the Palazzo Publico which depict war and peace in order to urge the Sienese to re-establish peace. Turning from one side of the hall to the other, he built his sermon from the fresco scenes. Debby includes more examples where Bernardino commented directly on

(Florence, 1958), p. 195: La dipintura è per genti grosse. Debby, ‘‘The Preacher as Goldsmith,’’ in this volume. 56 Debby, ‘‘The Preacher as Goldsmith’’; Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, p. 88, Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 72-5. 57 Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 73, 107. 58 Martin, Métier, p. 580. 59 Larissa Taylor, French Sermons (1235-1535), in The Sermon, pp. 730-31; Martin, Le métier, p. 552, on sermons in cemeteries. 60 Martin, Métier, pp. 593-7. Martin, p. 594, also provides evidence that preachers probably oversaw the early representations of the danse macabre. See also Miriam Gill, ‘‘Preaching and Image: Sermons and Wall Paintings in Later Medieval England,’’ in this volume.

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paintings and she treats other Italian preachers who evoked visual images.61 In short, medieval preachers had recourse to visual images, whether real objects or imaginary scenes, to enhance the eﬀects of their sermons. Gestures Gestures, while belonging to the realm of the visual, deserve separate attention, for in the artes praedicandi and in modern theory they occupy most prominently the ground where preaching may cross into theatre. Italian Franciscan preachers stand out for their dramatic gesticulation, part of the modus concionandi,62 but other preachers also made eﬀective use of well-chosen gestures or signs of emotion. Three German preachers of the tenth and eleventh centuries reportedly shed tears to have an impact on their audiences.63 John of Xanten, a crusade preacher, sometimes preached with his eyes closed.64 Even Bernard of Clairvaux resorted to gesture to save his sermon. After Bernard had admonished a very large crowd in southern France on preserving the catholic faith and avoiding impure association with heretics (de immunda haereticorum societate vitanda commonuisset), he was challenged by a heretic who rebuked Bernard for having a well-fed horse with a thick and fat neck (cervicosus et pinguis). The abbot asserted that he and the heretic’s teacher would be judged concerning their own necks, not their horses’. Bernard pulled back his hood, baring his head down to the shoulders to show his long and graceful neck. It shone bright with whiteness like a swan’s even though it was thin and emaciated. The people all rejoiced at Bernard’s response.65 Thus the abbot of Clairvaux’s ges61 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari (Siena 1425), vol. 2, pp. 266-67. See Debby, ‘‘The Preacher as Goldsmith’’; Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 17-18. 62 Lesnick, Preaching in Florence, p. 137. See also Carla Casagrande and Silvana Vecchio, ‘‘Clercs et jongleurs dans la société médiévale (e et e siècles)’’, Annales 34 (1979), 913-28 at 920-21. 63 See Giles Constable, ‘‘The Language of Preaching in the Twelfth Century,’’ Viator 25 (1994), 152. 64 See Penny Cole, The Preaching of the Crusades to the Holy Land, 1095-1270 (Cambridge, Mass., 1991), p. 131. 65 Exordium magnum cisterciense sive narratio de initio cisterciensis ordinis, ed. B. Griesser, (Rome, 1961), Chapter 17, pp. 110-111, at 111, lines 27-34.

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ture and his neck guaranteed the successful performance of his sermon. Franciscan preachers, who intended to be ‘‘jesters of God’’, cultivated the art of meaningful gesture.66 Thomas of Celano remarks that Francis spoke with his whole body (de toto corpore fecerat linguam) and tells about a ‘‘predica silenziosa’’ that Francis preached to Clare and her sisters at St Damian. Francis demonstrated the meaning of penitence by tracing a circle of ash and remaining silent inside it for a time, before he ﬁnally recited the Miserere.67 Many other stories recount the saint’s dramatic performances.68 Preachers of ﬁfteenthcentury Italy followed Francis’ example and excelled at memorable gestures. Jacopo della Marca credited Bernardino da Siena with embellishing preaching in four ways, including ‘‘belli giesti et muodi’’.69 Giovanni da Capestrano surprised his German audience at Halle in 1452 by preaching ‘‘with his hands and feet’’, as one listener described it. Roberto da Lecce practiced a physical imitation of Christ by standing in the form of a cross with his arms extended for more than twenty minutes.70 Late medieval French preachers gesticulated enough to provoke the 1431 Council of Nantes to rule that they should avoid ‘‘frightening outcries, bold elevations of the hands, excessive posturing, and outrageous gestures.’’71 The Dominican Vincent Ferrer was an accomplished performer, punctuating his sermons with tears, silence, singing, and numerous gestures. He reportedly changed completely during his sermons, just as an actor does during a performance. His sermons

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Schmitt, La raison des gestes, p. 281. Thomas of Celano, Vita I S. Francisci, pars 2, cap. 4, num. 97, p. 74, in Analecta Francescana  (1941), cited by Zelina Zafarana, ‘‘La predicazione francescana,’’ in Zelina Zafarana, Da Gregorio  a Bernardino da Siena. Saggi di storia medievale, ed. O. Capitani, C. Leonardi, E. Menestò, e R. Rusconi, Quaderni del Centro per il Collegamiento degli Studi Medievali e Umanistici nell’Università di Perugia, 17 (Perugia: Regione dell’Umbria, Firenze: La Nuova Italia, 1987), p. 142. Manselli, ‘‘Il gesto.’’ 68 Zafarana, ‘‘La predicazione francescana,’’ pp. 142-3; Lesnick, Preaching in Florence, pp. 137-40. 69 Carlo Delcorno, ed., ‘‘Due prediche volgare di Jacopo della Marca recitate a Padova nel 1460’’ in Atti dell’Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti 128 (1969-70), 178. 70 On Giovanni da Capestrano, see John R. H. Moorman, History of the Franciscan Order from Its Origins to the Year 1517 (Oxford, 1968), p. 471; and on Roberto da Lecce, Agostino Zanelli, ‘‘Predicatori a Brescia nel Quattrocento,’’ in Archivio Storico Lombardo 15 (1901), 106-07. See also Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 69-70. 71 Martin, Le métier, p. 580. 67

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contain statements that he must have combined with gestures, and a reportator drew a circle in his notes to illustrate Ferrer’s gesture demonstrating how to make the sign of the cross.72 In short, medieval preachers seem to have gesticulated more than the artes praedicandi recommended. The tension over their movement persisted, as evidenced by the 1431 Nantes decree. However, although the concern for moderation remains, iconography may suggest some relaxation of attitudes. Thirteenth-century miniatures depict the heretical preacher with both hands extended toward the audience, whereas the orthodox preacher extends only the right hand in a measured fashion. Later representations of the preacher generally place him in the pulpit, using both hands but in the manner of a scholastic, as if counting the divisions of his discourse.73 The modern notion of multimediality, as it incorporates gestures, ﬁnds ample illustration in these records of medieval performance, as do Schechner’s observations on the lasting tension between entertainment and eﬃcacy. Interpreters Preachers like Vincent Ferrer apparently succeeded in overcoming linguistic diﬀerences with the aid of emotive speech and gestures,74 but medieval preachers also employed interpreters. In 1147 Pedro, bishop of Lisbon preached to English, German and other crusaders in Latin; interpreters then relayed his sermon to groups of soldiers in their respective languages.75 In Burgundy and Silesia, Giovanni da Capestrano delivered his sermons in Latin, and then interpreters

72 See Manuel Ambrosio Sánchez Sánchez, ‘‘Vernacular Preaching in Spanish, Portuguese, and Catalan,’’ in The Sermon, p. 808. 73 Martin, Le métier, pp. 282-3, cites the unpublished work of Marie-Pierre Champetier. 74 On Ferrer and his ‘‘gift of tongues’’ and preaching in Catalan, Alberto Ferreiro, ‘‘Vincent of Ferrer’s Beati Petri Apostoli: Canonical and Apocryphal Sources in Popular Vernacular Preaching,’’ Harvard Theological Review 91:1 (1998), 45-6. Martin, Le métier, p. 564, suggests that Ferrer used interpreters, but there is not ﬁrm evidence for it. 75 De Expugnatione Lyxbonensi. The Conquest of Lisbon, ed. and trans. C. W. David, Records of Civilization: Sources and Studies, 24 (New York, 1936; repr. NewYork, 1976), p. 68. See Sánchez, ‘‘Vernacular Preaching,’’ pp. 830-31. Indicto ab omnibus silentio, episcopus sermonem coram omnibus lingua latina habuit, ut per interpretes cuiusque lingue sermo eius omnibus manifestaretur.

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translated them into the language of the listeners.76 In 1503, Raimund Peraudi visited Lübeck, accompanied by an interpreter who translated Peraudi’s Latin sermon for the audience. Other priests and monks throughout the city repeated the translator’s words verbatim so that the preacher’s sermon could be heard everywhere.77 Some audiences seemingly preferred a Latin sermon to one in their native tongue, however. Listeners in Cologne remained attentively while Bernard of Clairvaux preached in Latin but left the site during the German translation of the sermon.78 Sermons involving translators occupied the attention and eﬀort of many, bringing to mind Pﬁster’s analysis that drama requires collectivity of reception and production. They lead us logically to consider preaching and theatre. Theatre Preachers borrowed from the theatre when they incorporated dialogue or monologue into the sermon, assuming the voice of one or more persons including their own.79 The Dominican Giovanni Dominici (1356–1419) dramatized imaginary conversations between preacher and listener as part of his sermons.80 Vincent Ferrer used diﬀerent voices to dramatize biblical or hagiographic stories and he also evoked the image of the physical stage in his listeners’ imaginations.81 Bernardino da Siena reproduced conversations and elaborated the soul’s monologue of inner debate.82 Later preachers followed his example and transformed exempla into theater; the preacher, like a puppet-master, gave his voice to various characters 76

Martin, Le métier, p. 564. See Johannes Schneider, Die kirchliche und politische Wirksamkeit des Legaten Raimund Peraudi (1485-1505) (Halle a. d. Saale, 1882), p. 82. I am grateful to Falk Eisermann for this reference. 78 Geoﬀrey of Auxerre, Vita prima Bernardi 3.3.7, PL, vol. 185, p. 307. See also the comment of Adam Scot of Dryburgh on audiences who preferred elevated Latin to the vernacular: PL, vol. 198, p. 184C, and other examples in Constable, ‘‘The Language of Preaching,’’ pp. 139, 149-50. 79 For a theoretical perspective on this, see Waters, Doctrine Embodied, pp. 261-68. 80 Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby, ‘‘Or’ andiamo alla predicha, udiamo la parola d’iddio’. The Stormy Preaching of Giovanni Dominici in Renaissance Florence 1400-1406,’’ in Archivio italiano per la storia della pietà 12 (Rome, 1999), 75. 81 Sánchez, ‘‘Vernacular Preaching,’’ p. 809. 82 Polecritti, Preaching Peace, p. 36. 77

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who acted on an imaginary stage.83 The public character of worship in the late Middle Ages mirrored the popularity of religious drama staged in the open air. Hervé Martin remarks that religion from 1350–1520 appears as a ‘‘vaste mise en scène,’’ where processions, mystery plays, and sermons followed each other in succession.84 Gospel stories adapted for drama in the ﬁfteenth century inﬂuenced dramatic sermons. In Italy Alessandro de Ritiis inserted theatrical acts and laudi into his sermons and allowed their staging near the pulpit.85 Dramatic features of liturgy and sermon were enhanced when preachers recruited townsfolk to play special roles in processions. Roberto da Lecce arranged processions in 1448 Perugia, enlisting a barber to pose as Christ carrying the cross.86 In ﬁfteenth-century France, mystery plays included sermons and sermons incorporated scenes with dialogue. Some friars aided in staging plays. The friar Michel Le Flamenc staged mystery plays in Amiens and composed one himself for performance at Pentecost in 1483. The townsmen of Poitiers were persuaded in 1469 to prevent a certain Dominican friar from staging a Passion play, while friar Pierre Chapon at Bourg-en-Bresse obtained approval in 1480 to explain the Passion while it was performed by several young people.87 In these circumstances, the sermon, with accompanying gestures, audience response, and dramatic eﬀects, resembled and at times took place simultaneously with the theatre that was being staged in the public squares of late medieval Europe. Miracles When miracles occurred in conjunction with preaching, the sermon’s performance gained a divine actor working ‘‘oﬀstage’’, or intervening like the Deus ex machina of drama; the dimensions of multimediality expanded; and the potential for transforming the listeners intensiﬁed. The relationship of miracles to preaching de83

Delcorno, ‘‘Preaching in Italy,’’ p. 475. Martin, Le métier, p. 553. 85 Delcorno, ‘‘Preaching in Italy,’’ p. 475. 86 Polecritti, Preaching Peace, p. 107. 87 Martin, Le métier, pp. 582-3. Martin cites seven cases of friars who participated in the representation of mystery plays. 84

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rives from the accounts of Jesus’ ministry in the gospels, the apostles’ evangelizing journeys in the book of Acts, and the apocryphal stories of the Virtutes apostolorum88. Gregory the Great explained the need for the apostles to perform miracles: ‘‘that their evident power might lend credence to their words, and that those who preached something new might perform something new.’’89 Subsequent centuries relied on the apostolic model to aﬃrm the necessity for miracles to conﬁrm holy and valid preaching. The polemical tracts and papal letters written in the latter part of the twelfth century reassert the role of miracles. Defenders of orthodoxy against dissident Christians who claimed the right to preach insisted not only that valid preachers must be sent by a higher authority, but also that their preaching, just as that of the apostles, must be conﬁrmed by the working of signs and miracles.90 Late medieval preaching continued to go hand in hand with miracle working, and a wide range of wonders occurs in narratives about preaching: healings, apparitions, power over nature, exorcisms, and so on.91 Some examples will illustrate how the working of miracles could seal the successful performance of a sermon. We focus on miracles that accompanied the sermon, occurring during or after it, and were closely tied to its performance. Although these primarily emanate from preachers widely revered as saints: Bernard of Clairvaux, Dominic, Bernardino da Siena, and Vincent Ferrer, a lesser known preacher such as Eustace of Flay, who attempted to abolish Sunday markets, demonstrates clearly the eﬀectiveness of preaching with and without miracles. His ﬁrst preaching mission to England in 1200 failed, but he returned in 1201 to reap some success. On the 88 On the dating and principal manuscripts of the Virtutes apostolorum, also known as the pseudo-Abdias collection, see Eric Junod and Jean-Daniel Kaestli, Acta Iohannis, Corpus Christianorum Series Apocryphorum (Turnhout, 1983), pp. 750-7, 790-5. 89 Forty Gospel Homilies, trans. David Hurst, Cistercian Studies 193 (Kalamazoo, 1990), Homily 17, p. 122. On Gregory’s view of miracles and their rarity in his age, see R. A. Markus, Gregory the Great and his World (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 62-3. 90 Kienzle, ‘‘Holiness and Obedience,’’ pp. 263-4. 91 A full analysis of these, with attention to the larger frame of meaning that surrounds them, lies beyond the scope of this essay. For the study of miracles in the Middle Ages, see Benedicta Ward, Miracles and the Medieval Mind: Theory, Record, and Event (10001215) (Philadelphia, 1985). Thompson, Revival Preachers, pp. 114-18, analyzes the types of miracles the Alleluia preachers performed and draws on the work of Howard Clark Kee, Miracles in the Early Christian World: A Study in the Socio-Historical Method (New Haven, 1983); and Pierre-André Sigal, L’homme et le miracle dans la France médiévale (e-e siècle) (Paris, 1985).

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second visit he performed miracles connected with infractions of the Sabbatarian laws he recommended, and he produced a miraculous missive commanding observance of the Sabbath, which had allegedly fallen from heaven onto the altar of St Simeon on Golgotha.92 The accounts in the Vita prima of Bernard of Clairvaux’s journey to Occitania pay much more attention to Bernard’s miracles than his sermons,93 but preaching still works together with healing. The Exordium magnum cisterciense links preaching and miracles, aﬃrming that with the word of Bernard’s preaching and his wondrous signs and miracles, the abbot called Occitania’s people back from the depths of Hell.94 After a sermon that Bernard preached at Sarlat in 1145, the abbot blessed several loaves of bread. The inﬁrm ate them and were healed, and the news of the miracle spread through the region.95 A miracle story from the Hystoria albigensis, a chronicle of the Albigensian Crusade and its preaching campaigns, concerns a Cistercian abbot of Bonneval. Addressing a large crowd that spilled out of the village church, the abbot exhorted his audience to take on the cross against the Toulousan heretics, whereupon an enormous cross appeared in the sky for all to see.96 An apparition of the Virgin accompanied a crusade sermon described by Etienne de Bourbon. While the cross was being preached and the symbol taken on by men in the audience, the Virgin appeared above, oﬀering her son to the new crusaders.97 92 J. L. Cate, ‘‘The English Mission of Eustace of Flay (1200-1201),’’ in Etudes d’histoire dédiées à la mémoire de Henri Pirenne par ses anciens élèves (Brussels, 1937), pp. 67-89. 93 After the ﬁrst attempt to canonize Bernard failed in 1162, the revision of the Vita was charged to Geoﬀrey of Auxerre, who prepared the text as part of the successful canonization attempt in 1174. A. M. Piazzoni, ‘‘Le premier biographe de Saint Bernard: Guillaume de Saint-Thierry,’’ in Vie et légendes de Saint Bernard de Clairvaux, Création, diﬀusion, réception (e-e Siècles). Actes des Rencontres de Dijon, 7-8 juin 1991, ed. Patrick Arabeyre, Jacques Berlioz and Philippe Poirrier, Cîteaux: Commentarii Cistercienses, Textes et Documents, vol. 5 (Cîteaux, 1993), pp. 7-8. 94 Griesser, Exordium magnum, pp. 112-13: certe ii ipsi Gasconiae populi, quos de faucibus putidissimae haereseos pater sanctus verbo praedicationis, signis etiam et prodigiis admirandis tanquam de ventre inferi revocabat… 95 G. of Auxerre, Vita prima, PL, vol. 185, pp. 313-14. See Beverly Mayne Kienzle, Cistercians, Heresy and Crusade in Occitania (1145-1229): Preaching in the Lord’s Vineyard (Woodbridge, UK, 2001), pp. 97-8. 96 Pierre des Vaux-de-Cernay, Hystoria Albigensis, ed. P. Guébin and E. Lyon, 3 vols. (Paris, 1926-1939), vol. 1, p. 292. See Kienzle, Cistercians, p. 142. 97 Anecdotes historiques. Légendes et apologues tirés du recueil inédit d’Etienne de Bourbon, ed. Albert Lecoy de la Marche (Paris, 1877), p. 96.

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Away from public squares, hermits preached and performed miracles that moved their hearers to repentance. In the early thirteenth century, John Buoni inﬂuenced many by his holy life, preaching, and miracles, what George Ferzoco calls a ‘‘conversion package’’ – de verbo, exemplo et miraculis. A falcon that obeyed John’s command assisted the power of his words and moved a certain Jacobinus to abandon his Patarene beliefs.98 John’s ‘‘conversion package’’ brought together the moral exemplarity of his life and the multimedia performance of miracle to achieve eﬃcaciousness and the transformation of Jacobinus. As John Buoni demonstrated power over a creature of nature, Italian revivalist and Iberian preachers were reputed to inﬂuence the elements with their preaching. Gratian of Padua halted the thunder and lightning that threatened to end his sermon and send the crowd into ﬂight.99 St Pedro Gonçalves Telmo reportedly made the rain stop during his sermons, as did Frei Afonso Abelho who came to Evora to preach and stop the ﬂoods in 1372. Vincent Ferrer in contrast preached sermons credited with causing the rain to fall in Mallorca.100 Numerous miracles are reported during the sermons of thirteenth-century Italian revivalist preachers, whom Salimbene described as putting themselves forward as ‘‘working miracles,’’ a phrase that combines the notions of moral and miraculous performance. Augustine Thompson notes that these preachers exploited the miraculous. Threats to the authority of revivalist preachers sometimes proved dangerous. In Pavia a Dominican’s sermon was interrupted by a heretic, who shouted that if a nearby barrel rolled over and broke his leg, he would believe that the friar was a holy man. The barrel immediately broke the man’s leg. Benign signs of divine protection also accompanied the preachers, as when a luminous cross appeared over John of Vicenza’s head as he addressed the Council of Bologna in 1233.101 98 Acta Sanctorum Oct. 9 (Brussels, 1858), pp. 746-885 at 829. See George Ferzoco, ‘‘Preaching by Italian Hermits,’’ in Medieval Monastic Preaching, pp. 150-51. 99 Thompson, Revival, p. 119. 100 Sánchez, ‘‘Vernacular Preaching,’’ p. 779. 101 … et intromittebant se fratres Minores et Praedicatores de miraculis faciendis…, Salimbene de Adam, Cronica, ed. Oswald Holder-Egger, MGH.SS. 32 (Hannover, 1905-13), p. 467. Thompson, Revival, pp. 110, 113-35, includes these and other examples of miracles performed by the revivalist preachers. Not all occurred with sermons.

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Bernardino da Siena reportedly received wondrous appearances above his head; their form varied according to the sermon’s theme. While preaching on the feast of the Assumption in L’Aquila, a star became visible above him, proof that the Virgin regarded his sermon with favor. In another vein, a ball of ﬁre ﬂamed over Bernardino after a sermon in which he denounced sodomy.102 The renowned preacher laid claim to the assistance of angels in reaching his listeners. He assured his audience that the celestial creatures were contributing to the sermon’s eﬃcaciousness by making his hearers both attend the sermon and listen attentively.103 Miraculous eﬀects surrounded even sermon attendance. Etienne de Bourbon tells about a woman who wanted to hear a famous preacher but had been unable to move from her bed for many years. She had herself carried into the public square for the sermon and made her confession there. The next morning she rose in health and along with other townsfolk followed the course of sermons for several days. Another tale concerns an old man, worn down from fatigue and illness, who fell asleep at the foot of a mountain he needed to traverse in order to hear a sermon. He awoke rested on the other side of the mountain. A woman following a series of sermons from town to town expended all her resources and had nothing to eat. A hare came and sat in her lap, a gift from God that she sold to buy enough bread for several days.104 Transformation and action Miracles and preaching functioned in tandem to eﬀect conversions, as in the case of Jacobinus mentioned above. Moving the listener to inward transformation or outward action constitutes a primary goal of the sermon.105 What that transformation entailed varied 102 Giovanni da Capestrano, S. Bernardini Senensis Ordinis Seraphici Minorum Vita, in Sancti Bernardini Senensis Opera Omnia, ed. Johannes de la Haye (Venice, 1745) ., col. B; Prediche volgari 1427, 1158. See also Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, pp. 203, 111. 103 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari sul Campo di Siena 1427, ed. Carlo Delcorno, 2 vols. (Milan, 1989), vol. 1, pp. 121, 128-29. See Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, p. 98; Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 19-20. 104 Anecdotes historiques, pp. 74-5. 105 Compare the ten fruits of the best preaching elaborated by Humbert of Romans, which include: conversio inﬁdelium ad ﬁdem, poenitentia virorum malorum, humiliatio mundanorum, peccatorum confessio. De eruditione praedicatorum, p. 445.

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widely. Cynthia Polecritti applies Victor Turner’s notion of ‘‘liminal’’ space to the sermon. That liminal space allows for transformation, both of preacher and of audience. The preacher may establish his or her identity or become transformed through the sermon. Bernardino da Siena described the sermon as a ‘‘half-paradise’’, a time and place that allowed for transformation and conversion from one’s earlier life. One thinks of Augustine of Hippo’s reference to the impact of Ambrose’s preaching on his own conversion: ‘‘Aut quomodo credent sine praedicante?’’106 Moreover, the possibility for transformation reached the preacher himself, not only the audience. Bernardino da Siena, as Giovanni da Capestrano reported, stated that he could not live if he could not preach: ‘‘si non debere praedicare, non posse vivere.’’ Preaching established his identity and deﬁned his existence.107 When the medieval preacher transformed the audience, whether an individual or the collective group of listeners, the visible, even dramatic and active results of the sermon’s performance range from conversion to exorcism, individual and collective, to group action such as the burning of vanities or the tragic burning of persons deemed unacceptable outsiders. Preaching penitence occupied much of the medieval preacher’s eﬀorts, and repentance ﬁgures prominently as proof of the sermon’s eﬃcaciousness.108 The thirteenth-century hermit, Peter of the Morrone, more widely known for his brief tenure as Pope Celestine V, worked many wonders from the cell where the world sought him out. Among those transformed was a local notary, who heard Peter preaching, abandoned his dissolute life, and devoted himself to good works.109 Crusade preaching aimed at direct results: the taking on of the physical symbol of the cross. The eager Christians listening to Bernard of Clairvaux’s sermon at Vézelay in 1145 quickly exhausted

Augustine, Confessions, ..1, p. 3. ‘‘Sermo S. Iohannis da Capestrano, O.F.M. ineditus de S. Bernardino Senensi O.F.M.,’’ ed. Ferdinando Doelle, Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 6 (1913), 76-90. See also Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 22-3. 108 See Anne Thiel Thayer, ‘‘Penitence and Preaching on the Eve of the Reformation. A Comparative Overview from Frequently Published Model Sermon Collections 1450-1520,’’ Ph.D. Dissertation, Harvard University, 1996. 109 Ferzoco, ‘‘Hermits,’’ pp. 154-5. 106 107

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the stock of cloth crosses for sewing on garments and the abbot tore his own robes to provide an additional supply.110 Preaching against heresy sought the conversion of heretics from error. Bernard of Clairvaux, during his 1145 tour in Occitania, preached to a large crowd in the church at Albi. The abbot probably used the ‘‘Parable of the tares’’ (Matthew 13:24–30, 36–52) as his text,111 explaining that he would show the audience both the good and the wicked seed and let them decide which to choose. He then expounded various points one at a time, beginning with the sacrament of the altar, and explained what the heretics were preaching in contrast to what the true faith said. When the abbot asked his listeners to choose, so Geoﬀrey reports, they chose the true faith and began to despise the heretics’ beliefs. Finally, at Bernard’s request, they raised their right hands to heaven, a gesture of unity with the preacher.112 Another Cistercian, Henry of Clairvaux/Albano, reportedly inﬂuenced two noteworthy conversions. Geoﬀrey of Auxerre reports the legate’s success in 1181 at converting two heretics after bringing them to tears and a heartfelt confession of their errors in the presence of a great and diverse crowd.113 The Dominican preacher Etienne de Bourbon tells that Dominic was preaching in the town of Fanjeaux when nine women came to him asking for a sign to help them discern whether or not to follow the Cathars. Dominic continued to pray and then instructed the women to stand bravely when the Lord showed them what lord they had been serving. A large horrid cat leaped into their midst, with a long tongue and a short tail that exposed a foul posterior releasing horrible odors. The creature, obviously a sign of the devil, reportedly frightened the women into orthodoxy and some became the ﬁrst sisters at Prouille, Dominic’s earliest religious foundation.114 110 Odo of Deuil, De profectione Ludovici  in orientem, ed. and trans. Virginia Gingerick Berry, Records of Civilization, Sources, and Studies 41 (New York, 1948), p. 8. See Cole, Crusade, p. 42. 111 On the usage of the Parable of the Tares in texts against heresy, see Stephen Wailes, Medieval Allegories of Jesus’ Parables (Berkeley, 1987), pp. 105-08; and Ulrich Luz, Das Evangelium nach Matthaüs 2, Mt 8-17 (Zürich, 1990), pp. 343-8. 112 Geoﬀrey of Auxerre, Vita prima, PL, vol. 185, 414D-416A. For more on the sermon, see Kienzle, Cistercians, pp. 100-01. 113 Geoﬀrey of Auxerre, Super Apocalypsim, ed. F. Gastaldelli, Temi e Testi 17 (Rome, 1970), p. 210. See Kienzle, Cistercians, p. 133. 114 Anecdotes historiques, pp. 34-5.

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Tears represented one of several visible signs that the preacher had touched his audience. Weeping, such as that provoked by the IHS emblem, and cries of ‘‘Misericordia’’ punctuated Bernardino’s sermons. His pleas to the women in the audience to weep with him points to their role in a sort of aﬀective dialogue with the preacher and an indication that eﬃcaciousness needed not await the sermon’s conclusion. When preaching on topics other than the Holy Name, Bernardino provoked diﬀerent reactions. When he mentioned the devil, a woman listener spit on the ground.115 On another occasion, Florentine listeners spit upon hearing the preacher instruct them to spit out the ﬁre of Sodom.116 Bernardino’s preaching with the IHS symbol occasioned exorcisms in men and women in Siena. Two eyewitnesses reported the spontaneous exorcism of demons from a woman who had suﬀered more than fourteen years. The same sermon (May 28, 1425) extended into a ritual of procession with relics and singing around the city.117 Bernardino himself vaunted the emblem’s success at Padua in exorcising a demon and curing a woman suﬀering from an issue of blood. A woman in Prato began to scream during one of Bernardino’s sermons there in 1424. The friar left the pulpit and made the sign of the cross over her. Bystanders then shouted ‘‘Misericordia’’, the demons departed from the woman, and evil spirits left two other persons.118 Destructive demonstrations followed sermons in Quattrocento Italy. In Fontetecta near Arezzo, Bernardino led a group from his audience to destroy a nearby well, considered a site of pagan superstition. Three years earlier, Bernardino had failed in his attack on the well.119 Bonﬁres burned in various cities, including Florence, Perugia, Prato and Siena after Bernardino’s preaching. Vanities 115 Andrea Biglia, De institutis, discipulis et doctrina fratris Bernardini Ordinis Minorum, in Baudouin de Gaiﬃer, ‘‘Le mémoire d’André Biglia sur la prédication de Saint Bernardin de Siene,’’ Analecta Bollandiana 53 (1935), 349. See Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, p. 91. 116 Le prediche volgari (Firenze 1424), ed. C. Cannarozzi, 2 vols. (Pistoia, 1934), 2, p. 48. On this event in 1424 Florence, see Polecritti, Preaching Peace, p. 71; Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, p. 150. 117 Le prediche volgari (Siena 1425), ed. C. Cannarozzi, 2 vols. (Florence, 1958), vol. 2, p. 336. Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 74-5. See also Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, p. 104. 118 Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 74, 81.

119 See Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, pp. 100-01.

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were ignited in Florence; weapons were added to the blaze in Perugia. In Siena on May 29, 1425, a bonﬁre next to the pulpit destroyed gambling devices, vanities and assorted tools of sorcery.120 In France playing cards and the trains of women’s dresses also were burned.121 Bernardino’s preaching wrought even more destructive consequences. It probably stirred the burning of witches in Rome in 1426 and inﬂuenced the burning of Matteuccia Francisco in Todi in 1428.122 In contrast to those violent consequences of preaching, converting the audience also entailed moving them from conﬂict and war to peace. Peacemakings were often preceded by a sermon.123 Thirteenth-century revivalist preachers prompted peacemaking in numerous Italian towns and inﬂuenced anti-heretical and other legislation.124 Bernardino da Siena’s preaching of peace in 1425 incorporated directives guiding the audience from listening to enactment of a peacemaking ritual in another location. Men were sent to the cathedral and women to a church for rituals of reconciliation.125 Roberto da Lecce’s preaching in Perugia prompted the election of peacemakers ( pacieri) for each part of town.126 Inﬂuential Quattrocento preachers moved town governments to implement social legislation such as statutes on gambling, usury, and sumptuary laws. Siena modiﬁed the city’s statutes in 1425 after Bernardino’s preaching there and placed the IHS emblem over the main portal of the Palazzo Publico. The same year Perugia revised its statutes and abolished the stone-throwing game practiced by its

120 Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 78-80, 106. See also Thomas Izbicki, ‘‘Pyres of Vanities: Mendicant Preaching on the Vanity of Women and Its lay Audience,’’ in De Ore Domini: Preacher and Word in the Middle Ages, ed. T. L. Amos, E. A. Green, and B. M. Kienzle (Kalamazoo, 1989), pp. 211-34. 121 Larissa Taylor, Soldiers of Christ: Preaching in Late Medieval and Reformation France (New York, 1992), p. 34. 122 Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, pp. 72-3. 123 Polecritti, Preaching Peace, p. 94 124 Thompson, Revival Preachers, pp. 63-80, 136-56. On the revivalists and heresy, see Peter D. Diehl, ‘‘Overcoming reluctance to prosecute heresy in thirteenth-century Italy,’’ in Christendom and its Discontents. Exclusion, persecution, and rebellion, 1000-1500, ed. Scott L. Waugh and Peter D. Diehl (Cambridge, 1996), pp. 47-66. See also Polecritti, Preaching Peace, p. 93. 125 Debby, ‘‘Goldsmith’’. See also Polecritti, Preaching Peace, p. 44, and on 1427 peacemakings, pp. 181-236. 126 Polecritti, Preaching Peace, p. 107.

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young people.127 Sumptuary laws were enacted in many Italian cities due to the inﬂuence of mendicant preaching.128 The preaching of Bernardino and other friars inﬂuenced legislation against the Jews in several Italian cities. Legislation promulgated in Orvieto cites Bernardino’s preaching and threat of excommunication as the motivation for invalidating any agreements made with the Jews. The expulsion of Jews from Vicenza also was attributed to the Sienese friar’s preaching. Violence ensued in some cases. Another Franciscan preacher, Guglielmo da Venosa, provoked an uprising against the Jews in Viterbo in 1429. Anti-Jewish sermons were inﬂuential enough that in 1422 and 1429 Pope Martin  forbade preachers from delivering anti-Jewish sermons, and Eugenius  repeated the prohibition in 1433 and 1435.129 Examples of the tragic consequences of preaching as propaganda multiply. Sources document cases in Iberia, where preachers stirred crowds to antiJewish violence.130 Heretics also suﬀered from the inﬂammatory rhetoric of some preachers. Cathars were burned in Verona in the summer and autumn of 1233, due to the inﬂuence of Dominican preachers.131 Most medieval sermons did not produce violent results, but those that did illustrate tragically the power of the authoritative identity that the preacher constructed and the performative force that the sermon could wield. Failure Not all medieval sermons achieved their goals. Lack of attendance was a common problem.132 Distractions interrupted the sermon frequently. Outdoor sermons faced challenges from the elements 127

Polecritti, Preaching Peace, pp. 38, 64 n. 110. Izbicki, ‘‘Pyres of Vanities.’’ 129 Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, pp. 200-206, 213-15. For an extensive treatment of mendicant preaching against the Jews, see Jeremy Cohen, The Friars and the Jews: The Evolution of Medieval Anti-Judaism (Ithaca, N.Y., 1982). 130 Sánchez, ‘‘Vernacular Preaching,’’ p. 774. 131 Diehl, ‘‘Overcoming Reluctance,’’ pp. 47-66. See also Polecritti, Preaching Peace, p. 93. John of Vicenza and Peter of Verona are named; however, no evidence places Peter of Verona in that city when the heretics were burned. See Thompson, Revival Preachers, p. 38 n. 36. I am grateful to Louis-Jacques Bataillon for that clariﬁcation. 132 See Nicole Bériou, L’avénement des maîtres de la Parole: La prédication à Paris au e siècle (Paris, 1998), pp. 603-04. 128

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and stopped short because of rain.133 Even sermons inside encountered unpredictable interruptions. A listener once challenged Stephen Langton and called him a liar before being ousted from Canterbury Cathedral.134 Caesarius of Heisterbach reports that a madwoman bellowed so loudly that the audience failed to hear a preacher’s crusade sermon.135 Exempla recount the punishment of some who impeded God’s word from being heard, such as a young woman who sang loudly with some friends near the public square during the preaching and refused to stop. Struck by physical aﬄictions, she confessed and promised never again to interrupt the sermon.136 Both Bernard of Clairvaux and Bernardino da Siena left town unsuccessfully at least once. In the town of Verfeil, when Bernard began to direct his sermon against the nobles, they left the church and entered their houses, refusing to listen to Bernard preaching outside. Soon they pounded against their doors and made such a racket that the people remaining outside could not hear the abbot preaching. Finally, Bernard ‘‘shook the dust from his feet’’ and cursed the town as he left.137 Bernardino da Siena was expelled from the town of Fontetecta in 1425 after he attacked the local well, which he viewed as a site of superstition. He returned in 1428, however, and succeeded at destroying it.138 A Cistercian abbot, Guy of les Vaux-de-Cernay, also had a preaching failure recorded. Guy approached a crowd of heretics gathered in a house in Minerve. They interrupted his preaching and told him that he was working in vain. A second attempt to preach to women heretics also failed.139 133

On the rain interruption, see Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, p. 91. See Roberts, Stephen Langton, p. 51. 135 For the cow story, see Caesarius of Heisterbach, Homiliae, ed. Reinhold Röhricht, in Testimonia minora de quinto bello sacro e chronicis Occidentalibus, Publications de la Société de l’Orient Latin, série historique 3 (Geneva, 1882), p. 177. See also Cole, Crusades, p. 131. 136 Anecdotes historiques, pp. 161-2. 137 Guillaume de Puy-Laurens, Chronique, ed. and trans. Jean Duvernoy (Paris, 1976) caput 1, pp. 26-9. See André Picard and Pierre Boglioni on Bernard’s miracles: ‘‘Miracle et thaumaturgie dans la vie de Saint Bernard,’’ in Vie et légendes de Saint Bernard, p. 44. 138 Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, pp. 100-101. 139 Hystoria Albigensis, 1, pp. 158-61: Quid nobis predicatis? Fidem vestram nolumus. Romanam ecclesiam abdicamus. In vanum laboratis. A secta quam tenemus neque mors neque vita nos poterit revocare. 134

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Preachers sometimes found themselves the target of violence and hostile behavior. Bernardino endured a public slapping in the face in Viterbo, a near beating in Siena, and assassination plots in Padua and Vicenza. Once his enemies sawed the legs of the pulpit to weaken it, and Bernardino found himself thrown into the audience below, his teeth broken oﬀ and blood spewing forth.140 Felip de Malla, preaching in Barcelona’s cathedral in 1416, became the target of lampoon-throwing listeners who attempted to kill him after he urged the king to renounce his allegiance to Pedro de Luna. Another Iberian preacher, Frei Vasco del Alagoa, escaped angry reactions to his sermon by taking shelter in his monastery.141 Conclusion Performance theory utilizes categories that can sharpen the analysis of medieval sermons. Categorizing types of utterances as well as their social convention and context provides useful tools for sermonists, as do the concept of framing; the diﬀerentiation between ritual and theatre, and the tension between eﬃcacity and entertainment; the analysis of characteristics of drama such as multimediality; the exploration of the relationship between performance and authority; and the notion of the social construction of identity. Medieval preaching theory stresses the preacher’s exemplarity or moral performance above other factors.The artes praedicandi emphasize moderation in speech and gesture as the surest path to eﬃcaciousness. Although they devote relatively little attention to the sermon’s delivery, they do warn against excess: anything that would convert the sermon into entertainment or theatre. Some allowance is made for appropriate gestures and good storytelling, but moderation remains the guiding principle. The artes praedicandi treat concepts that correspond to some of the categories modern theorists tackle, notably eﬃcaciousness and transformation of the audience; multimediality, to the extent that it involves emotive language and gestures; framing, which embraces the suitability of speech and contextual elements such as location; and moral exemplarity, in as 140 141

Mormondo, Preacher’s Demons, p. 6. Sánchez, ‘‘Vernacular Preaching,’’ pp. 781-2.

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much as it corresponds to the construction of social identity. While on the level of practice, one could conclude from the artes praedicandi that medieval preachers exercised careful moderation in speech and gesture, the warnings that the authors issue against excessive gesticulation and ornament of language probably indicate what some preachers actually were doing when they delivered sermons. Most of the reality of medieval sermons’ performance regrettably escapes us. Extant evidence for performance may record more of the interesting and extraordinary than of the typical. It reveals that preachers practiced not just what the artes praedicandi advised but whatever proved necessary for persuading their audiences. Visual aids, local art, gestures, translators, emotive language, multimedia eﬀects, miracles, and even actual theatre in the late Middle Ages, bolstered the preacher’s imaginative repertoire. Eﬃcaciousness, whether demonstrated in the listener’s conversion and repentance, or in social actions of sometimes violent impact, not only deﬁned the successful performance of a sermon but also constructed the preacher’s authoritative identity for self and society. Records of failures indicate that this establishment of authority through performance proved diﬃcult, and that despite wondrous balls of ﬁre and crosses shining from heaven, medieval preachers and sermons did not always prove eﬃcacious. Select Bibliography Bloch, Maurice, ‘‘Symbols, Song, Dance and Features of Articulation: Is Religion a Form of Traditional Authority?’’ Archives européennes de sociologie 15 (1974), 55–81. Carlson, Marvin, Performance: A critical introduction (London/New York: Routledge, 1996). Enders, Jody, Rhetoric and the Origins of Medieval Drama (Ithaca/London: Cornell University Press, 1992). Kienzle, Beverly Mayne, ‘‘Holiness and Obedience: Denouncement of Twelfth-Century Waldensian Lay Preaching’’, in The Devil, Heresy and Witchcraft. Essays in Honor of Jeﬀrey B. Russell, ed. Alberto Ferreiro (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1998), pp. 259–278. —, ‘‘Preaching as Touchstone of Orthodoxy and Dissidence in the Middle Ages’’, Medieval Sermon Studies 43 (1999), 18–53. — and Pamela J. Walker, eds., Women Preachers and Prophets Through Two

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Millennia of Christianity (Berkeley/Los Angeles/London, University of California Press, 1998). Martin, Hervé, Le métier du prédicateur en France septentrionale à la ﬁn du moyen âge (1350–1520) (Paris: Editions du CERF, 1988). Mormondo, Franco, The Preacher’s Demons. Bernardino of Siena and the Social Underworld of Early Renaissance Italy (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999). Polecritti, Cynthia L., Preaching Peace in Renaissance Italy. Bernardino of Siena and His Audience (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2000). Schechner, Richard, Essays in PerformanceTheory (1971; rpr. New York and London: Routledge, 1988). Schmitt, Jean-Claude, La raison des gestes dans l’occident médiéval (Paris: Gallimard, 1990). Suydam, Mary A. and Joanna E. Zeigler, eds., Performance and Transformation. New Approaches to Late Medieval Spirituality (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1999). Thompson, Augustine, Revival Preachers and Politics in Thirteenth-Century Italy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992).

PART FIVE

PREACHING AND ART

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CHAPTER SIX

THE PREACHER AS GOLDSMITH: THE ITALIAN PREACHERS’ USE OF THE VISUAL ARTS** Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby (University of Haifa & The Hebrew University of Jerusalem)

Introduction In one of his sacred lectures on the Book of Haggai delivered before the people of Florence in the Cathedral, the famous Dominican preacher Girolamo Savonarola (1452–98) related a personal exemplum of his hesitation in accepting God’s mission to preach in Florence. Savonarola asked God how he, a foreigner from Ferrara, could be sent to Florence to guide and lead its citizens to the road of salvation. God’s answer was that ‘‘prophets are not honored in their own country,’’ implying that as a stranger Savonarola could better succeed in Florence. Reassured, Savonarola accepted his mission. Yet his doubts continued to bother him, and he asked God on what subjects he should preach in the city. Saying, ‘‘Come with me,’’ the Lord conducted Savonarola to the city of Florence. And this is where our search for an understanding of the interactions between preachers and art in Renaissance Italy begins. To explain to Savonarola his mission as a preacher, God took him to the shops of a painter, a sculptor and a goldsmith, and here is what followed: And I went, and he [the Lord] led me into the shop of a painter and told him: ‘‘I would like you to make me a ﬁgure of stone or wood.’’ The painter said: ‘‘I am no sculptor. My art is only to paint.’’ Then the Lord led me into the shop of the sculptor and said: ‘‘Paint a ﬁgure.’’ And the sculptor answered: ‘‘It is not my art to paint.’’ Wherefore the Lord ﬁnally led me to the shop of the goldsmith and told him that he wanted * I would like to thank the Yad Hanadiv Foundation for their generous support of this study.

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him to make a sculptured ﬁgure on a painted relief. And the goldsmith said that he knew how to make it. Then the Lord turned and told me: ‘‘Don’t you know that some arts are simple, to know how to do only one thing, while others are mixed, to do more things together, like the goldsmith who knows how to paint and make a sculpture? The same you should do.’’1

The Lord explained to the perplexed Savonarola that while the painter could only paint, and the sculptor could only make a sculpture, the goldsmith could do both: thus it was with a preacher’s vocation. Just as the goldsmith could do several diﬀerent but connected types of art together; the preacher had to take care of both the material and the spiritual well-being of the city of Florence.2 This story illustrates Savonarola’s ambivalent attitude toward the arts. On the one hand, the preacher emphasized his superiority: in contrast with the painter or the sculptor, who could only do one kind of art, the preacher, like the goldsmith, could do them all; on the other hand, he drew a direct parallel between his vocation and that of the artists.3 It also shows Savonarola’s familiarity with the hierarchy of the arts in Florence. He chose to deﬁne his vocation as superior to the arts of painting and sculpting, but as equivalent to the art of the goldsmith, which was considered the most prestigious of the arts.4 This paper focuses on the place of the visual arts in sermons and sacred lectures, and is centered on the question: What use did Italian preachers make of the arts? The use that preachers made of the 1 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra Aggeo, ed. Luigi Firpo, vol. 1 (Rome, 1965), pp. 328–29: E io andai, e lui mi condusse in una bottega di uno pittore e disseli: Vorrei che tu mi facessi una ﬁgura di pietra o di legno. El pittore disse: Io non sono scultore. L’arte mia è sola el dipignere. Allora el Signore mi condusse a una bottega dello scultore e disseli: Dipigni qua una ﬁgura. E lo scultore rispose: Non è arte mia el dipigner. Donde el Signore ultimamente mi condusse alla bottega dello auriﬁce e disseli voleva che lui facesse una ﬁgura scolpita e di rilievo e dipinta. E l’oreﬁce disse saperla fare. Ed el Signore subgiunse e dissemi: Non sai tu che alcune arti sono semplice, di saper fare una cosa sola, alcune sono miste, di far più cose insieme, come è l’aureﬁce che sa pingere e sculpire? Così bisogna fare a te. My translation; all translations are by me unless otherwise indicated. 2 Ibid., p. 329. 3 On the central position of artists in Florence see Martin Wackernagel, The World of the Florentine Renaissance Artist: Projects and Patrons, Workshop and Art Market (Princeton, repr. 1980); Anabel Thomas, The Painter’s Practice in Renaissance Tuscany (Cambridge, 1995). 4 The most important artists of the period for instance, the sculptor Lorenzo Ghiberti and the architect Filippo Brunelleschi began their careers as goldsmiths. On the prestigious status of the goldsmith in Florence see L’oreﬁceria nella Firenze del quattrocento, ed. Maria Grazia Ciardi Dupré dal Poggetto (Florence, 1977).

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arts depended on three factors: their general perception of the arts, their preaching philosophy, and their use of literary devices in sermons and sacred lectures.5 In their view of the arts, ﬁfteenth-century Italian preachers were following in the footsteps of earlier scholastic thinkers. Traditionally, the Church had an ambiguous attitude toward the ﬁne arts. There was suspicion that the arts were a form of idolatry, while at the same time, there was recognition of their merits as a didactic tool to instruct the ignorant. Pope Gregory  (590–604) ﬁrst deﬁned this religious stance.6 In the High Middle Ages, there was a growing concern that people might direct their prayers to the actual works of art instead of to the saint or holy ﬁgure depicted there. In the view of Thomas Aquinas (1226–74): Religion does not oﬀer worship to images considered as mere things in themselves but as images drawing us to God incarnate. Motion to an image does not stop there at the image but goes on to the thing it represents.7

Other views appear in the Catholicon of Johannes Balbus (†1298), which was popular in fourteenth and ﬁfteenth-century Italy. Accordingly, an image had three functions: the ﬁrst was to instruct the ignorant and the illiterate, the second was to keep alive the memory of the mysteries of the faith and the examples of the saints, and the third was to act as a means of inspiring devotion.8 These traditional opinions heavily inﬂuenced the views of ﬁfteenth-century Italian preachers. 5 Creighton Gilbert has published an anthology of translated passages giving views of the religious on the arts in the Renaissance. See Creighton E. Gilbert, Italian Art, 1400–1500: Sources and Documents (Englewood Cliﬀs NJ, 1980), pp. 145–59. See also the Italian version of the anthology, Creighton E. Gilbert, L’arte del Quattrocento nelle testimonianze contemporanea (Florence, Vienna, 1988). Note also Gilbert’s study: ‘‘The Archbishop on the Painters of Florence, 1450,’’ Art Bulletin 41 (1959), 75–87, giving the views of Archbishop Antoninus (1427–59) on the arts as they appear in his Summa Theologica. On Antoninus’ perceptions of art see also Frederick Hartt, A History of Italian Renaissance Art (London, 1970, rev. 1980); Peter Howard, Beyond the Written Word: Preaching and Theology in the Florence of Archbishop Antoninus 1427–1459 (Florence, 1995), pp. 2–3. I do not include Antoninus in the survey that follows because my focus is on vernacular reportationes of preached sermons, whereas for Antoninus we have only his Latin sermons and treatises. 6 For a survey of the Church’s traditional perceptions of the ﬁne arts see Evelyn Welch, Art and Society in Italy, 1350–1500 (Oxford, 1997), pp. 133–66. 7 Ibid., p. 138. 8 Ibid., pp. 137–8.

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Preachers’ use of the arts was grounded in their perceptions of their vocation. Preaching is a mode of communication between a charismatic individual and his audience, a means of delivering a religious message to them. The preacher’s task is to guide his listeners in religious matters and in their lives; he wishes to popularize his religious ideals aiming to convince them to repent.9 The preacher’s use of the arts in his preaching depends on various moral and pragmatic considerations: whether art is in accordance with theology, whether it is good for the Christian soul, whether from a pragmatic perspective works of art are useful as didactic instruments and transmit a religious message in an instructive manner. A preacher might view art negatively, seeing artists as rivals and fearing the dangers in art; or he might be aware of the surrounding artistry of his preaching location and allude to works of art in his sermons. The following survey distinguishes among three diﬀerent styles of preaching and consequently among three diﬀerent ways in which preachers used art in ﬁfteenth-century Tuscany, as exempliﬁed in the sermons and lectures of three diﬀerent preachers: the Dominican Giovanni Dominici (1356–1419), who preached in Florence between 1400 and 1406; the Franciscan Bernardino da Siena (1380–1444), who preached in Florence in 1424 and 1425 and in Siena in 1425 and 1427; and the famous Dominican Girolamo Savonarola (1452–98), who preached in Florence in the last decade 9 The literature on the complex role of preachers and on the nature of medieval sermons is vast. For a useful survey of the relevant studies see Phyllis Roberts, ‘‘Sermon Studies Scholarship: The Last Thirty-Five Years,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 43 (1999), 9–19. See also David L. d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars: Sermons Diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985); Carlo Delcorno, La predicazione nell’età communale (Florence, 1974); Beverly M. Kienzle, ‘‘The Typology of the Medieval Sermon and Its Development in the Middle Ages,’’ in De l’Homélie au sermon: Histoire de la Prédication Médiévale, ed. Jacqueline Hamesse and Xavier Hermand (Louvain-la- Neuve, 1993), pp. 83–102; Beverly M. Kienzle, ‘‘Preaching as a Touchstone of Orthodoxy and Dissidence in the Middle Ages,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 43 (1999), 19–54; Medieval Monastic Preaching, ed. Carolyn Muessig (Leiden, 1998); Roberto Rusconi, Predicazione e vita religiosa nella società italiana da Carlo Magno alla Controriforma (Turin, 1981). On the iconography of preachers, see Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Giovanni da Capistrano: Iconograﬁa di un predicatore nell’Europa del ‘400,’’ in Predicazione francescana e società Veneta nel Quattrocento: Le Venezie Francescane 1 (1989), 31–60; Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Vicent Ferrer e Pedro de Luna: sull’icongraﬁa di un predicatore fra due obbedienze,’’ in Conciliarismo, stati nazionali, inizi dell’ Umanesimo-Atti del  convegno storico (Spoleto, 1990), pp. 213–40; Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘’Trasse la storia per farne la tavola:’ immagini di predicatori degli ordini mendicanti nei secoli  e ,’’ in La predicazione dei frati- Atti del  convegno internazionale (Spoleto, 1995), pp. 405–50.

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of the ﬁfteenth century. These sermons and lectures were preserved in the form of vernacular reportationes – notes taken down by listeners who have attended the preaching event and which by their very nature reﬂect the inﬂuence these sermons and lectures had.10 Dominici and Bernardino preached according to the rules of the sermo modernus, a traditional literary genre with ﬁxed rules and a stylistic heritage. Within this traditional frame, a preacher could integrate references to works of art whose images and stories (exempla) were intended to arouse delight and interest (dilitatio). Dominici’s sermons are a collection of sermons lacking any chronological order and delivered on various liturgical occasions, while Bernardino’s are organized cycles for Lent.11 Savonarola’s sacred lectures, organized cycles delivered on consecutive days either at Advent or at Lent, represent an entirely diﬀerent literary genre, a verse-byverse exegesis, a loose commentary on the biblical text characterized by simplicity and non-technical language.12 This distinction of genre among the preachers’ collections may partly account for their diﬀering subject matter, and the messages they delivered. Giovanni Dominici (1356–1419) Giovanni Dominici, a popular preacher and central reformer of the Dominican order, was active in Venice and Florence. His life may be divided into four phases: childhood and youth in Florence (1356–88), preacher and religious reformer in Venice (1388–99), preacher and religious reformer in Florence (1399–1406), and cardinal and papal legate in Rome (1407–19). Dominici evoked a range of contradicting reactions from enthusiastic admiration to extreme opposition, and he was banished from the city by both the

10 On the nature of the Italian reportatio see Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘La predicazione: Parole in chiesa, parole in piazza,’’ in Lo spazio letterario del medioevo, ed. G. Cavallo, Claudio Leonardi, and Enrico Menestò (Rome, 1994), pp. 571–603. 11 On the distinctions among collections of sermons see Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Approaches to the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ Leeds Studies in English 11 (1980), 19–35. 12 On Savonarola’s method of preaching see Armando Verde, ‘‘Questione Savonaroliane aperte,’’ Memorie Domenicane 18 (1987), 368–80. On the sacred lecture as a type of preaching see John O’Malley, The First Jesuits (Cambridge MA, 1993), pp. 91–110.

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Venetian and the Florentine authorities.13 Dominici was a proliﬁc writer; the many works he has left us include letters, mystical treatises, poems, a treatise on the household and education called Regola del governo di cura familiare, a polemical treatise against humanism entitled Lucula Noctis, and various sermons. A major manuscript containing Dominici’s sermons from Florence is Ricc. 1301 (47 pages, 179 folios). A few additional sermons are to be found in other manuscripts, among them Ricc. 2105 and Ricc. 1414 in Florence or San Pantolomeo in the Vatican. 14 Throughout his life, Dominici was interested in the ﬁne arts. In the convents under his jurisdiction in Venice and Pisa, he taught the nuns to paint manuscripts, and he might have practiced painting himself. He also patronized the decoration of the cells in Corpus Domini, an Augustinian convent for nuns that he reestablished in Venice in 1393. Dominici’s activity as a reformer of the Osservanza – a reform movement initiated at the end of the fourteenth century that called for a return to the original ideals of the Dominican order is also thought to be responsible for a renewed interest in the arts and in artistic creativity in the convent of San Marco in Florence, particularly in connection with the works of Fra Angelico.15 13 The best biography of Giovanni Dominici is still that by Stefano Orlandi in Necrologio di Santa Maria Novella (Florence, 1955). Useful information is presented in Giorgio Cracco, ‘‘Banchini, Giovanni di Domenico,’’ in Dizionario biograﬁco degli Italiani, ed. B. Bertoni, vol. 1 (Rome, 1963), pp. 657–67. See also the studies of Daniel Bornstein: ‘‘Giovanni Dominici, the Bianchi, and Venice: Symbolic Action and Interpretive Grids,’’ Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies 23 (1993), 143–71 and The Bianchi of 1399 (Ithaca, 1993). See also Giorgio Cracco, ‘‘Giovanni Dominici e un nuovo tipo di religiosità,’’ in Conciliarismo, stati nazionali, inizi dell’Umanesimo- Atti del convegno storico (Spoleto, 1990), pp. 3–20; Peter Denley, ‘‘Giovanni Dominici’s Opposition to Humanism,’’ Studies in Church History 17 (1982), 103–14; Daniel Lesnick, ‘‘Civic Preaching in the Early Renaissance: Dominici’s Florentine Sermons,’’ in Christianity and the Renaissance, ed. Timothy Verdon and John Henderson (New York, 1990), pp. 208–25; Roberto Rusconi, L’attesa della ﬁne: Crisi della società, profezia ed Apocalisse in Italia al tempo del gran scisma d’Occidente (1378–1417) (Rome, 1979), pp. 101–11. 14 Many of Dominici’s works have been edited. For a survey of Dominici’s unedited works see Guglielmo D’Agresti, ‘‘Introduzione agli scritti inediti del Dominici,’’ Memorie Domenicane 1 (1970), 51–199. For Dominici’s sermons see Carlo Delcorno, ‘‘Repertorium of Italian Vernacular Sermons,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 41 (1998), 41–6; Alfredo Galletti, ‘‘Prediche inedite di Giovanni Dominici,’’ in Miscellanea di studi critici in onore di Guido Mazzoni, ed. A. Della Torre (Florence, 1907), pp. 253–78. 15 On Dominici’s inﬂuence on patronage of the arts in the convent of Corpus Domini in Venice see Creighton E. Gilbert, ‘‘Tuscan Observants and Painters in Venice, ca. 1400,’’ in Interpretazioni Veneziani, ed. David Rosand (Venice, 1984), pp. 109–20.

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Dominici’s views on the arts appear mainly in his Regola del governo di cura familiare, addressed to the noblewoman Bartolomea degli Alberti. The Regola was written for Bartolomea after her husband, Antonio Alberti, was banished from Florence in 1401 and she was left alone to take care of her children. In this domestic guide, Dominici suggested visual representations as a teaching method for children. He suggested that a mother should keep pictures and sculptures of biblical ﬁgures in her house in order to educate her children.16 Dominici recommended as suitable images of the Virgin, of the baby Jesus at play, and of John the Baptist. For young girls, Dominici suggested pictures of female saints, which would teach them chastity, purity, and charity. The mother, however, must beware of gilded or overly ornamented pictures so as to avoid turning the children toward idolatry.17 Dominici’s suggestions show a familiarity with the iconography of his period and recognition of the utility of art as a teaching method; children could identify with the painted ﬁgures and consequently would be instructed in religious themes. Yet he was also aware of the dangers in art, that children might admire the external features of the artworks instead of the subjects they represented. Dominici also emphasized that there was a signiﬁcant distance between the arts and the Scriptures. Therefore you must know that painting of the angels and saints is permitted and ordained, for the mental utility of the lowest…but the sacred scriptures are mainly for the most perfect.18

On Dominici’s inﬂuence on the artistic activity in the convent of San Marco in Florence see William Hood, Fra Angelico at San Marco (New Haven, 1993), pp. 23–6. 16 Giovanni Dominici, Regola di governo di cura Familiare, ed. Piero Bargellini (Florence, 1927), p. 101: La prima si è d’avere dipinture in casa di santi fanciulli o vergini giovinette, nelle quali il tuo ﬁgliuolo, ancor nelle fascie, si diletti come simile e dal simile rapito, con atti e segni grati alla infanzia. E come dico di pinture, così dico di scolture. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, pp. 145–6. See also Gilbert, Tuscan Observers, pp. 110–11. 17 Dominici, Regola, pp. 101–3: Bene sta la Vergine … Sarà buona ﬁgura Gesù che poppa … Così si specchi nel Battista santo, vestito di pelle di cammello … Così si vorrebbono nutricare le piccole fanciulle nell’aspetto dell’undici mila vergini … Piacemi veggano Agnesa col grasso agnello, Cecilia di rose incoronata, Elisabetta di rose piena, Caterina in sulla ruota, coll’altre ﬁgure le quali col latte dieno loro amor di Virginità, desiderio di Cristo, odio de’ peccati, dispregio di vanità. Avvisoti se dipinture facessi fare in casa a questo ﬁne, ti guardi da ornamenti d’oro o d’ariento, per non fargli prima idoltari che fedeli. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, p. 146. 18 Ibid., p. 102: Però che debbi sapere sono permesse e ordinate le dipitunte degli Angeli e Santi, per utilità mentale de’ più bassi...ma le Scritture revelate son principalmente per li più perfetti. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, p. 146.

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Dominici explained in the Regola: The community as a whole needs various kinds of labor, farmers, woodworkers, masons, carvers, painters, tailors, armoires, weavers...One who is disposed to be a wool worker will not be a good barber, and whoever is inclined to carving or painting, will not be attentive in study.19

Dominici presents here the medieval perception that classiﬁed the arts as artisan skills, and he drew a contrast between the superior liberal arts and the inferior mechanical arts. There is no trace here of the Renaissance conception of the artist as an intellectual.20 Considering Dominici’s assumption of a total separation between the inferior mechanical arts and the superior ‘‘sacred scriptures,’’ it is not surprising to ﬁnd very little about the arts in his sermons. In his mind, although the ﬁne arts might be helpful in educating children and the illiterate, they had to be distinguished from preaching the Scriptures. Moreover, his rigid preaching style did not permit the use of reﬁned and imaginative exempla; the sermon had to be totally conﬁned to the Scriptures, and the preacher’s major duty was to remain faithful to the doctrines of the Church and not to entertain his listeners. Dominici criticized, for example, these so-called preachers…who use language to parade the ideas of philosophers [and] the stories of poets [in place of ] the truth and intellect of the sacred scriptures.21

On one occasion Dominici, in an undated sermon delivered on the ﬁrst Sunday of Advent, warned his listeners: ‘‘If you do not open your eyes to read holy pictures and [do] good deeds, then you will choose evil instead and acquire vanity.’’22 However, his sermons include neither descriptions of works of art nor any other developed use of the ﬁne arts. Traditional in his style, he followed earlier medieval preachers such as Giordano da Pisa, who preached in 19 Dominici, Regola, pp. 141–2: Richiedesi appresso alla comunità universale diversi esercizi; come zappatori, legnaiuoli, muratori, intagliatori, dipintori, sartori…Disposto a essere lanaiuolo non sarà buon barbiere, a chi è inchinato ad intagliare, o vero dipignere, non sarà assiduo nello studio. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, p. 146. 20 See John Larner, ‘‘The Artist and the Intellectuals in Fourteenth-Century Italy,’’ History 54 (1969), 13–30. 21 Dominici, Regola, p. 105: quegli son chiamati predicatori…nella lingua de quali ballano ﬁlosoﬁ, poeti con favole, e non vi s’appica verità con intelletto di Scrittura santa. 22 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 3, l. 115–16: Et se tu non l’apri a llegere alle dipinture sancte, a exercizi buoni, egli conviene pigli de cattivi et corre alle vanità.

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Florence at the beginning of the fourteenth century and hardly ever referred to the ﬁne arts in his sermons.23 Another point of interest is the setting for Dominici’s preaching, the Dominican Church of Santa Maria Novella in Florence. Continuing a Dominican tradition, Dominici used to preach either from the high pulpit overlooking the audience inside the church or, weather permitting, in the large piazza. Dominici mentioned the location of his preaching in an undated sermon for the second Sunday of Advent, which opened with the invitation of St Paul to assemble: ‘‘We should gather not inside the walls of Santa Maria Novella, but in the real Santa Maria Novella: in purity, in virginity and chastity.’’24 Yet he described neither the church itself nor its works of art. On the whole, then, Dominici considered art to be an inferior tool yet useful for teaching children and the illiterate. He grouped the ﬁne arts with the mechanical arts and did not describe works of art in his preaching. In his mind, the art of preaching and the ﬁne arts, although united in their shared mission to transmit religious messages and instruct in theological material, were still worlds apart in value. Bernardino da Siena (1380–1444) Bernardino da Siena was an important reformer of the Franciscan order and a truly itinerant preacher who spent his life moving around northern, central, and southern Italy. Bernardino’s life was focused upon two major ﬁelds of activity: as an itinerant preacher, and as a religious reformer in the Franciscan Osservanza. Although he was opposed particularly by preachers from rival orders, Bernardino was generally admired and was declared a saint a few years after his death. Since he devoted his life to preaching, Bernardino’s literary legacy comprises the Latin sermons and Italian and Latin reportationes, most of them available in modern editions. His most famous cycles of sermons are the quaresimale, a series of sermons for

23 On Giordano da Pisa’s preaching in Florence see Carlo Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa e l’antica predicazione volgare (Florence, 1975). 24 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 4, l. 10–11: Richolglianci none in questa cioè in queste mura di Sancta Maria Novella, ma nella vera Sancta Maria Novella: nella purità, nella virginità, nella chastità.

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each day of Lent, delivered in Florence in 1424 and 1425, and in Siena in 1425 and 1427.25 Bernardino is well known for the creation of the visual image the ‘‘Holy Name of Jesus’’ (Il Nome del Gesù) [see plate 1]. He created an emblem combining the letters IHS surrounded by rays of light against a blue background, which had mystical origins in the thought of earlier Franciscans. He initiated a cult centered on this emblem and was accused of heresy by his opponents. His most famous critic was the Augustinian friar Andrea Biglia, who in a book about Bernardino warned against the cult’s dangers and claimed that Bernardino advocated ideas connected with magic in order to control the simple people more easily.26 Bernardino dedicated entire sermons to promoting the cult, and his sermons were followed by scenes of people kissing the emblem, weeping, and hugging one another: Having said so, friar Bernardino, ardent in the love of the Holy Spirit and of Jesus…pulled out a table about the size of an arm, on every side of which Il Nome del Gesù was ﬁgured against a blue background, with the letters [of the name] inside rays of gold. All the people in the church, kneeled down, uncovered their heads, and cried with the tenderness of [their] love for Jesus, and with great devotion adored and worshipped it.27

In his sermons, Bernardino justiﬁed creating the emblem and his use of visual images to excite devotion. He explained that there 25 On Bernardino da Siena see Carlo Delcorno, ‘‘L’ars praedicandi di Bernardino da Siena,’’ in Atti del simposio internazionale Cateriniano- Bernardiniano (Siena, 1980) 419–49; Jean-Claude Maire-Viguere, ‘‘Bernardino et la vie citadine,’’ in Bernardino predicatore nella società del suo tempo- Atti del convegno (Todi, 1976), pp. 251–82; Franco Mormando, The Preacher’s Demons: Bernardino da Siena and the Social Underworld of Early Renaissance Italy (Chicago, 1999); Iris Origo, The World of San Bernardino (London, 1963); Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Il sacramento della penitenza nella predicazione di San Bernardino da Siena,’’ Aevum 48 (1973), 235–86; Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Escatologia e povertà nella predicazione di Bernardino da Siena,’’ in Bernardino predicatore nella società del suo tempo (Todi, 1976), 213–50. 26 On Bernardino’s cult of Il Nome del Gesù see Daniel Arasse, ‘‘Entre dévotion et hérésie: la tablette de Saint Bernardin ou le secret d’un prédicateur,’’ Res 28 (1995), 118–39. 27 Bernardino da Siena, Le prediche volgari- Quaresimale Fiorentino del 1424, vol. 2, ed. Ciro Cannarozzi (Pistoia, 1934), pp. 213–4: Detto questo frate Bernardino, ardente d’amore di Spirito Santo e dell’amore di Gesù… cavò fuori una tavoletta di circa a uno braccio per ogni verso e in essa ﬁgurato el nome di Gesù nel campo azzurro, con uno razzo d’oro con lettere intorno. Tutto el popolo, che era piena la chiesa, inginocchione, senza nulla in capo, tutti piangendo di tenerezza dell’amore di Gesù, e per grande divozione adorandola e reverendolo.

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were three ways of coming to know God: the ﬁrst was ﬁgurale, through the painted images in which the simple people could believe; the second was letterale, through books and letters in which the learned might believe; and the third and highest was the mental recognition achieved through intuition. The visual image, Bernardino explained, could convince people to believe; but like Dominici, he warned his listeners against adoring ﬁgures because of their colors and gold, rather than for what they signiﬁed. But he emphasized that the visual image could enable viewers to remember Maria and the other saints, all of which could move them to true love: ‘‘He who does not know how to read, well, when he sees a painted ﬁgure, recognizes it and reads it in a manner in which he can read.’’28 One should believe in what a picture represents, he said in another sermon, and its meaning in eternity.29 Bernardino’s references to the arts are varied. For example, he criticized the misrepresentation of religious themes by painters regarding the stigmata of St Francis.30 In another sermon, on the theme of women’s vanity, Bernardino tried to persuade his female listeners not to paint their faces and asked rhetorically: ‘‘Don’t you believe, woman, that it is a sin and an injury to God to make yourself be what you are not?’’ To demonstrate his point, Bernardino related the following exemplum: There was a great and excellent master painter who created an image of Our Virgin… with her son cradled in her arms, a beautiful, well composed [ﬁgure] with a pleasing and devoted appearance. And there was one that was not such a good master… and he wanted to correct this image, to improve a few things, so he took a brush and with rough

28 Bernardino da Siena, Le prediche volgari- Predicazione del 1425 in Siena, vol. 2, ed. Ciro Cannarozzi (Florence, 1958), p. 195: Figurale si è dipintura; letterale, mentale. La dipintura si è per genti grosse; vuolselo fare riverenza. Uno dubio si muove, se si debbano adorare le ﬁgure, le quali ànno più cose: azzuro, oro e colori. Tu non puoi errare a far lo’ riverenza, come tu debbi per lo signiﬁcato che ti rappresenta, però che se è Maria, vedendola, te ne ricordi; così d’uno altro santo, però che ti fanno muovere al vero amore… Chi non sa leggiare, pure, quando vede dipenta una ﬁgura conosce e legge in quello modo che può leggiare. 29 Ibid.,vol. 1, p. 118: E così della ﬁgura dipenta, adora quello che ti dimostra e signiﬁca, che è in vita eterna. 30 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari sul Campo di Siena 1427, vol. 2, ed. Carlo Delcorno (Milan, 1989), pp. 920–1: Queste medesime cose ebbe santo Francesco, el quale rinovò tutte queste cose per amor del suo amante. Sonci de’ depintori, a udire i quali quando depingono santo Francesco, il dipingono co le piaghe rosse. Veramente elli ebbe pertusate le mani e’ piei, come ebbe Cristo Iesù, per li chiovi: così ebbe aperto il costato. For a detailed explanation see the note provided by Delcorno (n. 54).

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hands…ruined it, and with the brush scraped the face. What an oﬀense it is for the master, who made the image, since it is he who is the ﬁrst painter. And you when you improve [your face] don’t you ruin it? And you do it against the will of God, you cause a lot of shame to the image that he has made you, and you ruin it with your foolish deeds. Where you are white you make yourself red, where you are red you make yourself white, were you are yellow you make yourself colored, were you are curled you make yourself smooth, where you are fat you bind yourself to appear thin, where you are thin you pretend to be rotund, where you are short you want to wear high-heeled slippers. Whether you’re black or white, or whatever you are, you ruin the image that God created of you.31

Here Bernardino draws original parallels between the ﬁrst painter and God, and between the second, bad painter and the vain woman. He is aware of painters collaborating in the creation of works of art as well as competition between them. He shows his respect for the painter’s profession: a painter takes pride in his work and one should not tamper with his masterpiece. Bernardino’s greatest originality in the use of art in preaching lies in the descriptions of speciﬁc artworks he included in his sermons. Using works of art was an integral part of Bernardino’s philosophy and technique of preaching. Although, like Dominici, he preached according to the structure of the sermo modernus, he used exempla in a way that was highly original.32 Bernardino’s sermons are characterized by an innovative use of literary narratives, fantastic and imaginative stories, vivid images, and within this context, descriptions of works of art. Bernardino claimed that the preacher’s essential aim should be clarity of speech:

31 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1425, vol. 2, pp. 85–6: Che credi tu, donna, che sia di peccato o d’ingiuria di Dio, a farti altro che tu non se’?…Se fuse uno grandissimo e buono maestro dipintore, che facesse una ﬁgura di nostra Donna…col suo ﬁgliuolo in collo, bella, ben compassata, coll’aspetto piacevole e divoto, e uno che non fusse sì buono maestro…e volesse emendare tale ﬁgura apponendovi alcuna cosa, e poi pigliasse uno spazzatoio di forno o co’ le mani brutte vi ponesse mano a guastarla, e co’ lo ispazzatoio le fregasse el volto. Quanta ingiuria sarebbe a quello maestro che l’avesse fatta, però che lui è primo pittore, e tu che non te ne intendi la guasti? E tu ti fai contra al volere di Dio facendoli tanta vergogna de la ﬁgura che t’à fatta, e tu la guasti con tue imbrattarie, che dove se’ bianca ti fai rossa, dove se’ rossa ti fai bianca, dove se’ gialla ti fai colorita, dove se’ crespa ti fai pulita, dove se’ grossa tu ti stringhi che crepi, dove se’ sottile vi metti la bombagia, dove se’ bassa vuoi le pianelle alte. O nera o bianca, o per qual modo che tu sia, tu guasti la imagine che Idio t’à fatta. 32 On Bernardino’s original usage of exempla see the works of Carlo Delcorno cited above.

  ’     

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I tell you it is important to say and preach the doctrine of Christ in a mode that everyone will understand. Our preaching must be intelligible. Do you know how? Speak clearly, clearly, so whoever listens, will go his way contented and illuminated and not confused.33

Elsewhere, he explained: The art of speaking is the highest in the heavens and beyond the stars... But it is the language of men, meaning that speech should be clear, understood by everyone. Therefore those speakers or preachers should not be condemned who in order to demonstrate lofty ideas to us, do so with unreﬁned and folksy tales, since this is the art of speaking clearly.34

The preacher’s use of artworks in his sermons, therefore, was another literary device to help convey his religious message. The most innovative use of art in preaching appears in the sermons Bernardino da Siena delivered in his native city in 1425 and 1427. Here Bernardino introduced the setting of his preaching into his sermons, describing the works of art located in the Duomo (Cathedral), or in the Palazzo Pubblico (Communal Palace) in the Piazza del Campo. He gave his listeners a tour of the Palazzo Pubblico; of the Sala dei Nove, the room of the Council of Nine; and of the Sala del Gran Consiglio (Mappamondo room, the Hall of the Great Council), and described in detail and with a keen eye the paintings of the fourteenth-century Sienese masters Ambrogio Lorenzetti and Simone Martini.35 Although preaching in ﬁfteenthcentury Tuscany at the height of its artistic productivity, Bernardino was interested in the works of the Sienese school of the previous century. There might have been a patriotic reason, for Bernardino 33 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1427, vol. 1, p. 144: Io dico che a voi bisogna dire e predicare la dottrina di Cristo per modo che ognuno la intenda…elli bisogna che ‘l nostro dire sia inteso. Sai come? Dirlo chiarozzo chiarozzo, acciò che chi ode, ne vada contento e illuminato, e none imbarbagliato. 34 Bernardino da Siena, Le prediche volgari- Quaresimale Fiorentino del 1425, vol. 1, ed. Ciro Cannarozzi (Florence, 1940), p. 263: L’arte de’ dicitori si è le cose alte de’ cieli e delle stelle…però dice: con lingua d’uomini, cioè ch’ella sia sì chiara parlatura, ch’ella sia intesa da tutti gli uomini; e però non sono da biasimare i dicitori e predicatori che, per mostrarti le cose alte di sopra a noi, il faccino con essempli grossi e palpabili, che quella è l’arte del dire ben chiaro. 35 See Enzo Carli, ‘‘Luoghi ed opere d’arte senesi nelle prediche di Bernardino del 1427,’’ in Bernardino predicatore nella società del suo tempo: Atti del Convegno (Todi, 1976), pp. 155–82. Carli focuses on the Siena 1427 cycle. Important references to Bernardino’s usage of works of art appear also in the notes in Carlo Delcorno’s critical edition of the sermons preached by Bernardino in Siena in 1427. To their comments, I would like to add a discussion of Bernardino’s references to art in additional cycles of his preaching, most notably the Siena 1425 cycle.

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favored the Gothic style advocated by the Sienese artists over the new Renaissance style popular in ﬁfteenth-century Florence.36 Many of the allusions to works of art in Bernardino’s sermons are rhetorical devices meant to capture the attention of his listeners and to convey his moral message. He used the altarpiece of the Annunication depicted by Simone Martini and originally located in the Cathedral to school young girls in modesty: You see she [the Virgin] does not gaze at the angel, but sits with that almost frightened pose. She knew well it was an angel, so why should she be disturbed? What would she have done if it had been a man? Take her as an example, girls, of what you should do. Never talk to a man unless your father or mother is present.37

Here Bernardino oﬀers the image of the Virgin as a model of modesty and chastity. In other sermons, he referred to additional works, among them the pictures of Lorenzetti, now almost entirely lost, which were located in the chapter house of the Convento di Santo Agostino in Siena. Bernardino made use of the four winds (venti) shown in the pictures as a rhetorical device to divide his sermon, and they appear in connection with the vision of the prophet Daniel (Daniel 7: 2).38 Elsewhere, he referred to the maps, now lost, painted by Lorenzetti for the Sala del Mappamondo in the Palazzo Pubblico in celebration of the greatness of Italy.39 The most frequent allusions to works of art in Bernardino’s ser36 On the Sienese school of painting in the fourteenth century see Millard Meiss, Painting in Florence and Siena after the Black Death: The Arts, Religion and Society in the Mid-Fourteenth Century (Princeton, 1951); Siena, Florence and Padua: Art, Society and Religion, 1280–1400, ed. Diana Norman (New Haven, 1995). 37 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1427, vol. 2, p. 870: Vedi ch’ ella non mira l’Angiolo; anco sta con uno atto quasi pauroso. Ella sapeva bene ch’ elli era Angiolo: che bisognava ch’ella si turbasse? Che arebbe fatto se fusse stato uno uomo! Pigliane essemplo, Fanciulla, di quello che tu debbi fare tu. Non parlare mai a uomo, che non vi sia tuo padre o tua madre presente. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, 147. The painting of the Annunciation is from 1333; Simone Martini painted the altarpiece and it is today located in the Uﬃzi. 38 Bernardino da Siena, Predicazione del 1425, vol. 1, pp. 42–3: E sai quali sono questi venti? Io tel vo’ dire, e ricordomi che già li vidi nel Capitolo di Santo Augustino, et è buono tempo che io li vidi. See also Bernardino, Prediche 1427, vol. 1, p. 132: Sai come è colassù a Santo Augustino in Capitolo quelle dipenture con quelli quatro venti da quatro parti, e quali so’ questi quatro venti ch’io ti dico. One fresco of the Virgin and Child with Saints survives in the former chapter house, now the Cappella Piccolomini. See also the note provided by Delcorno (n. 133). 39 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1427, vol. 2, p. 1145: Doh, dimmi: hai tu veduta Italia come ella sta nel Lappamondo? Or ponvi mente: ella sta proprio come uno ventre. See also the note provided by Delcorno (n. 41).

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mons are his references to the Lorenzetti frescoes in the Sala dei Nove, the meeting hall of the council of the Sienese republic in Siena’s Palazzo Pubblico, painted between 1337 and 1340. 40 The layout of the Sala dei Nove is as follows: When we turn our backs to the window, we ﬁnd on the left the fresco War/ Allegory of Bad Government and Its Eﬀects depicting scenes of destruction and violence, the reign of ﬁre and death over city and country.41 On the far wall facing us is the Allegory of Good Government, with allegorical representations of the Virtues. On the wall to our right is Peace or the Eﬀects of Good Government, showing scenes of calm and prosperity [see plates, 2, 3 and 4]. Many of Bernardino’s allusions are brief and used for rhetorical eﬀect.42 His statements are often of a general kind: You have painted up in your building, where it is a joy to see peace painted. And thus too it is a darkness to see war painted on the other side.43

But he also alluded to speciﬁc ﬁgures, such as the ﬁgure of Charity in the fresco Peace or the ﬁgure of Tyranny in the fresco War, or even quoted directly from the inscription under Justice that appears in the former fresco.44 He described houses being burnt, vines being 40 On the Lorenzetti frescoes, see Chiara Frugoni, Una lontana città: Sentimenti e immagini nel Medioevo (Turin, 1983), pp. 136–210; Nicolai Rubinstein, ‘‘Political Ideas in Sienese Art: The Frescoes by Ambrogio Lorenzetti and Taddeo di Bartolo in the Palazzo Pubblico,’’ Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 21 (1959), 179–207; Randolph Starn, Ambrogio Lorenzetti: The Palazzo Pubblico- Siena (New York, 1994). 41 The present condition of the fresco War/ Bad Government is particularly poor which may explain why this painting has received less critical attention from modern scholars. 42 Bernardino’s allusions to these images is discussed by Delcorno in his introduction to the 1427 edition of Bernardino’s sermons. See Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari sul Campo di Siena 1427, vol. 1, pp. 21–22, and the detailed notes in this critical edition. 43 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1427, vol. 2, p. 1254, n. 211: Doh, voi l’avete dipenta di sopra nel vostro Palazzo, che a vedere la Pace dipenta è una allegreza. E così è una scurità a vedere dipenta la Guerra dall’altro lato. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, p. 147. 44 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1427, vol. 1, p. 311, n. 76: In ogni modo che tu parli, fa’ che sempre tu parli con carità … E come vedi che l’amore si dipegna tutto focoso perché è caldo …. Idem, vol. 1, p. 504, n. 150: Sai che ci è detto per bocca di Dio di questi diavoli incarnati, che non vogliono il ben vivere, ma il tirannesco vivare, ognuno a furare e sforzare chi eglino possono? Bernardino alludes to the ﬁgure of Tyranny that appears in War and Peace. For the inscription attached to the ﬁgure of Justice, see idem, vol. 1, 710, n. 2: Diligite iustitiam qui iudicatis terram-‘‘love justice you who rule the earth,’’ the theme of the sermon.

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cut down, and forests in ﬂames, drawing on the scenes of destruction depicted in the fresco War or he alluded to people working in the ﬁelds and in their shops, as depicted in the fresco Peace. In all instances, Bernardino used these visual descriptions to demonstrate to his listeners the beneﬁts of peace and the evils of war.45 The most detailed description of these frescoes appears in a sermon, ‘‘This Is the Sermon on Concord and Unity That We Must Have Together,’’ delivered in Siena in 1425 in the context of a peace ceremony, when the preacher used the frescoes to persuade its citizens to restore civic peace to the city: Second, the destruction and waste of war. When I was outside of Siena, and preached about peace and war, I reﬂected on the beautiful inventiveness of the [frescoes Peace and War] that you painted. When I turn to peace, I see commercial activity; I see dances, I see houses being repaired; I see vineyards and ﬁelds being cultivated and sown, I see people going to the baths, on horses, I see girls going to marry, I see ﬂocks of the sheep, etc. And I see a man being hanged in order to maintain holy justice. And for this [reason] everyone lives in holy peace and concord. On the other hand, when I turn to the other [fresco], I do not see commerce; I do not see dances, [I see] killing; no houses are being repaired, [they are] damaged and burnt; the ﬁelds are not being cultivated; the vineyards are cut down; there is no sowing, the baths are not used nor [are there] other delights, I do not see anyone going out. Oh women! Oh men! The man is dead, the woman raped, the herds are prey [to predators]; men treacherously kill one another; Justice lies on the ground, her scales broken, she is bound, her hands and legs are bound. And everything is done with fear. But the Apocalypse, in the thirteenth chapter, presents war in the ﬁgure of a beast coming out of the sea with ten horns and seven heads, like a leopard, and with the feet of a bear. What do these ten horns signify, if not to be in opposition to the Ten Commandments? [The beast] with seven heads, for the seven mortal sins, appears as a leopard, for treachery; [with the] feet of a bear, that is full of revenge. Yet [by] forgiving, you end and eliminate war.46 45 For scenes from War, see Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1427, vol. 1, p. 670, n. 132: Io n’ho veduti tanti danni! Arse case, sì nelle città e sì nel contado, che quasi non è rimasto niuna in luogo etc., e le vigne tagliate, bosci e selve arse, insino alle chiese; menato via il bestiame, consumate le ricchezze grandissime per lo mantenere le guerre. For scenes from Peace, see idem, vol. 2, 978–9, n. 123: Solo per la pace che tu hai auta le vigne so’ state lavorate e hai del vino in abondanzia. Simile, i poderi per lo lavorare t’hanno renduto del grano in abondanza e dell’altra biada. Perché si so’ lavorate? Pure per la pace che voi avete auta. El bestiame che tu hai tanto multiplicato, che n’è stato cagione? Pure la pace. 46 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1425, vol. 2, pp. 266–7: Secondo.

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In this passage, Bernardino refers only to Peace and War frescoes ignoring completely the third one, the Allegory of Good Government, perhaps because he considered it less relevant to his sermon’s message. He begins with a straightforward description of the frescoe Peace, which pictures trade, and agriculture, dancing, people going to the baths (a fashionable leisure-time activity of Bernardino’s society) and ﬂocks of sheep. His mention of ‘‘girls going to marry’’ supports the assumption of art historians that a wedding procession was painted in the lower left hand corner of the fresco and is typical of the preacher’s campaign to promote family life in the Tuscan cities.47 Bernardino now focuses on the small detail of the hanged man with the ﬁgure of Security depicted above the city, appearing to hold the gallows in his hand. Bernardino’s choice of the hanged man ﬁts the recurrent assertion in his sermons that to maintain peace, criminals must be treated severely. This small but graphic ﬁgure powerfully transmits Bernardino’s message of merciless justice. Turning to the opposite wall, Bernardino begins with a series of contrasts between War and Peace. The repetitions ‘‘I do not see’’ echo the modern art historians’ emphasis on the negative correspondences between the two frescoes. His rhetorical outburst, ‘‘Oh women! Oh men!’’ rivets his listeners’ attention and connects them to the ﬁgures depicted there. He then turns to the eﬀects of war as Distruzione e consumazione de la guerra. Io ò considerato quando so’ stato fuore di Siena, e ò predicato de la pace e de la guerra che voi avete dipenta, che per certo fu bellissima inventiva. Voltandomi a la pace, vego le mercanzie andare atorno; vego balli, vego racconciare le case; vego lavorare vigne e terre, seminare, andare a’ bagni, a cavallo, vego andare le fanciulle a marito, vego le grege de le pecore etc. E vego impicato l’uomo per mantenere la santa giustizia. E per queste cose, ognuno sta in santa pace e concordia. Per lo contrario, voltandomi da l’altra parte, non vego mercanzie; non vego balli, anco vego uccidare altrui; non s’acconciano case, anco si guastano e ardono; non si lavora terre; le vigne si tagliano, non si semina, non s’usano a bagni nè altre cose dilettevoli’ non vego se no’ quando si va di fuore. O donne! O uomini! L’uomo morto, la donna sforzata, non armenti se none in preda; uomini a tradimento uccidare l’uno l’altro; la giustizia stare in terra, rotte le bilance’ e lei legata, co’ le mani e co’ piedi legati. E ogni cosa che altro fa, fa con paura. E però l’Apocalisse, decimoterzo capitolo, dimostra ﬁgurata la guerra in una bestia che esce del mare con dieci corna e con seytte teste, simile al pardo, e piei dell’orso. Che signiﬁca le dieci corna, se no’ che è contra a’ dieci Comandamenti de la Legge? Con sette teste cioè con sette peccati mortali; simile al pardo, cioè tradimento; piei d’orso, cioè pieno di vendette. E però, perdonando, ﬁnisci e distruggi la guerra. The description appears in Bernardino’s thirtieth sermon in the 1425 quaresimale. See also Carlo Delcorno, ‘‘La città nella predicazione Francescana del Quttrocento,’’ in Alle origini dei Monti dei Pietà (Bologna, 1984), pp. 33–4. 47 For Bernardino’s campaign to promote marriage and family life see David Herlihy and Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, Tuscans and Their Families (New Haven, 1985), pp. 228–31, 250–3.

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shown in the fresco: the violence of rape, murder, and betrayal. Bernardino now points to the bound ﬁgure of Justice, her scales broken, which appears below Tyranny and the Vices on the righthand side of the painting, heightening the state of terror. While Bernardino, in general, ignores the frescoes’ allegorical elements, preferring to focus on their more naturalistic elements, he implies that when Justice is rendered helpless, the result is war.48 Finally, departing from the painted details the preacher associates the series of frescoes with the beast of the Apocalypse. He vividly describes the monster, explaining its symbolic meaning, and concludes with a command to his listeners to be forgiving and thus eliminate war. Bernardino, then, used the Lorenzetti frescoes to demonstrate, vividly and persuasively, the beneﬁts of peace and the destruction of war. This description was an eﬀective device to represent in his preaching the evils of internal conﬂicts. Bernardino was considered by his contemporaries to be a professional peacemaker, one who continued the mendicant tradition of promoting civic peace in the Italian cities.49 According to the biographer, Vespasiano da Bisticci, St Bernardino removed mortal hatred after the murders of many, reconciled an inﬁnite number of princes and made peace in numerous cities; he reunited many men who quarreled, and never paid any attention to anything other than making peace when he was at a place of much discord.50

Bernardino’s most renowned activities as a peacemaker, however, were in Siena in 1425 and 1427. He was a native of the Sienese contado, Massa Marittima, thus his involvement in his patria’s internal aﬀairs was greater there than in other cities. One can sense, for instance, his civic pride as he commends the beauty of the frescoes ‘‘you have painted,’’ as if considering them to be an achievement of the entire city rather than the product of an individual master painter. ‘‘This is the Sermon on Concord and Unity That We Must Have Together’’ is essentially an eﬀort to bring peace to Siena. The sermon includes a description of an actual peace ceremony that is

48

Bernardino’s emphasis on justice was noted by Delcorno, La Città, pp. 33–4. On Bernardino’s role as a peacemaker see Origo, pp. 144–71. 50 Vespasiano da Bisticci, The Vespasiano Memoirs: Lives of Illustrious Men of the Fifteenth Century, tr. Emily Waters (London, 1926), p. 38. For the original Italian see Vespasiano da Bisticci, ‘‘Vita di San Bernardino,’’ in Bernardino da Siena, Operette volgari, ed., Dionisio Pacetti (Florence, 1938). 49

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to follow the preaching. Bernardino sends his women listeners to be reconciled in the Chiesa di Santo Martino, while the men are to go to the Duomo. The women have to enter the church from one side and exit from the other as a sign of concord. The description of the frescoes, then, is presented in the context of a sermon whose aim was to achieve unity and which culminated in a ritual.51 On the whole, Bernardino understood better than any other Italian preacher the power of the visual image and was willing to utilize it for his needs. He stands out for his sophisticated use of works of art as sermon exempla, whether to teach young girls the value of modesty or to perform a peace ceremony and reconcile his listeners. Bernardino’s approach to the arts was based on pragmatic considerations. As a practicing preacher, he viewed art as a useful tool to educate the simple people, to create ﬁne rhetorical eﬀects, and to move his listeners to devotion. Savonarola (1452–98) Girolamo Savonarola was the most renowned and most inﬂuential preacher in ﬁfteenth-century Italy. Born in Ferrara in 1452, he joined the Dominican Convent of San Domenico in Bologna in 1475, and in 1482 was called to the post of lector, or instructor in theology, in the Convent of San Marco in Florence. During the next few years, Savonarola preached in several towns in central and northern Italy, returning to Florence in 1490, where he preached in San Lorenzo and in the Cathedral. In 1491, he was elected prior of San Marco and continued preaching in the city with increasing success. In 1494, after the siege of the city by Charles  of France and the banishment of the Medici, Savonarola became a leading ﬁgure in Florence and his political inﬂuence increased. He tried to reform the city and turn it into a theocratic republic, attack51 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Siena 1425, vol. 2, pp. 262–63: Quando voi vi partite di qui, io vi prego e vi comando, se io vi posso comandare, che tutti, per l’amore di Dio e per santa carità, voi perdoniate a tutti e vostri nemici, e che voi vi riconciliate insieme, e non rimanga nè donna, nè uomo, nè piccolo, nè grande, che non perdoni liberamente, magnanimamente a tutti coloro che t’ànno oﬀeso. E se fusse niuno che non potesse trovare colui col quale à l’odio, vada in segno di volere perdonare, al Duomo, a l’altare, e poi, quando trovarà el suo avversario, facci pace co’ lui e perdoni l’uno a l’altro. E a voi, donne, tutte andate costì a la chiesa di santo Martino, e intrate dall’una parte e uscite da l’altra, in segno che voi perdoniate a ogni persona.

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ing the papacy and its corruption in his preaching. In 1497, internal opposition to Savonarola increased, and he was excommunicated by Pope Alexander . So rapid was his fall from grace, both in Florence and in Rome that the following year, he was hanged and burnt as a heretic in the Piazza della Signoria in Florence. Savonarola’s preaching and domination in Florence (1494–98) are a well-known chapter in the history of the city and he has received much scholarly attention.52 His opinions and inﬂuence on the arts have also been examined, although much still remains to be done.53 All I am able to oﬀer here are some brief comments on Savonarola’s references to the arts and his philosophy of rhetoric, in the context of his preaching. However, I have been able to add a few additional passages that seem to have escaped attention in previous studies. More than any other preacher of his time, Savonarola’s mind was constantly drawn to the arts. His lectures contain numerous passages discussing the relationship between nature, beauty, and art. The aim of art, he declared, was to imitate nature, and successful works of art were those closest to nature: And though works of art seem to please men, yet if we consider, we ﬁnd that those please more which imitate nature more. So people praising paintings say: See, these animals seem to be alive, these ﬂowers seem natural.54

52 For biographies of Savonarola see Roberto Ridolﬁ, Vita di Girolamo Savonarola (Florence, 1981); Joseph Schnitzer, Savonarola, tr. E. Rutili (Milan, 1931). There is a vast bibliography dealing with Savonarola’s inﬂuence in Florence. See, for example, Studi Savonaroliani, ed. Gian Carlo Garfagnini (Florence, 1996); Donald Weinstein, Savonarola and Florence: Prophesy and Patriotism in the Renaissance (Princeton, 1970). For a bibliographical survey see Donald Weinstein, ‘‘Hagiography, Demonology, Biography: Savonarola Studies Today,’’ Journal of Modern History 63 (1991), 483–503. 53 Ibid., p. 503. Weinstein writes in his survey of the need for a comprehensive study of Savonarola and the arts and claims that recent attempts to characterize Savonarola’s ideas about art have been unconvincing. On Savonarola and the arts see André Chastel, Art et humanisme à Florence au temps de Laurent le magniﬁque (Paris, 1959), pp. 393–400; Mario Ferrara, Prediche e scritti (Milan, 1930), pp. 45–72; G. Gruyer, Les illustrations des écrits de J. Savonarola publiés en Italie au  e  siécles et les paroles de Savonarole sur l’art (Paris, 1879); Marcia B. Hall. ‘‘Savonarola’s Preaching and the Patronage of Art,’’ in Christianity and the Renaissance: Image and Religious Imagination in the Quattrocento, ed. Timothy Verdon and John Henderson (Syracuse NY, 1990), pp. 493–522; Stanley Meltzoﬀ, Botticelli, Signorelli and Savonarola: Theologica Poetica and Painting from Boccaccio to Poliziano (Florence, 1987); Ronald Steinberg, Savonarola, Florentine Art and Renaissance Historiograph (Athens OH, 1977). 54 Girolamo Savonarola, De Simplicitate ChristianaeVitae, ed. Pier Ricci (Rome, 1959),

  ’     

147

Savonarola argued repeatedly, however, that art would always remain inferior to nature. In a favorite example, he cited the test of the bird with grapes: when a bird sees real grapes near painted ones, it immediately recognizes the real grapes and goes for them.55 Savonarola explained further that what a thing signiﬁed was always more important than the thing itself; a living woman could move one’s emotions more successfully than a painted one.56 Similarly, he concluded in another sermon, when an artist paints a ﬁgure using a model, the natural ﬁgure would always be more beautiful than the painted one. Even a good painter will not be able to give the ﬁgure its liveliness, for art cannot imitate nature completely.57 In other passages, Savonarola points out the superﬁciality and dangers of art, such as that painting could lead to lascivious thoughts. He cited Aristotle, who warned against the perils of immodest art and condemned the Christian painters who were doing worse, creating immodest paintings instead of making images that would please God and the Virgin Mary.58 Savonarola showed a keen sensitivity toward and understanding of the ﬁne arts, and knowledge of their techniques.59 He explained, for example, that

p. 192: E benché e’ paia che le opere dell’arte piaccino agli uomini, nientedimeno, se noi rettamente consideriamo, troverremo che quelle tanto più piacciono quanto più imitano la natura. Onde e coloro e’ quali lodono alcuna pittura dicono: ‘Ecco, questi animali pare che vivino e questi ﬁori paiono naturali. 55 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra i Salmi, ed. Vincenzo Romano, vol. 1 (Rome, 1969), pp. 168–9: Sia qua una vite di uve naturale e una dipinta; venga uno uccelino, subito andarà alla vita vera. 56 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra Ezechiele, ed. Roberto Ridolﬁ, vol. 1 (Rome, 1955), p. 150: Item, è più eﬃcace il segnato che el segno, come vediamo che più muove una donna viva che una dipinta... . 57 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 375: Item, vedi che uno dipintore che faccia una ﬁgura al naturale, sarà sempre più bella la naturale che la dipinta; e sia buono maestro a suo modo, non può darli uno certo vivo che ha la naturale e non può l’arte imitare la natura in tutto. 58 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra Amos e Zaccaria, vol. 1, ed. Paolo Ghiglieri (Rome, 1972), p. 149: Aristotile, che era pagano, dice nella Politica che non si debba fare dipignere ﬁgure disoneste rispetto a’ fanciugli, perché vedendole diventano lascivi; ma che dirò io di voi, dipintori cristiani, che fate quelle ﬁgura là spettorate, che non sta bene? Non le fate più. Voi a chi s’apartiene, doverresti fare incalcinare e guastare quelle ﬁgure che avete nelle case vostre, che sono dipinte disonestamente e faresti una opera che molto piaceria a Dio e alla Vergine Maria. 59 It is interesting to note Savonarola’s sensitivity toward the ﬁne arts as opposed to the lack of interest and suspicious indiﬀerence to the arts expressed by such famous humanists as Erasmus. See Erwin Panofsky, ‘‘Erasmus and the Visual Arts,’’ Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 32 (1969), 200–27.

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every painter paints himself. He does not paint himself as being a man, because he makes images of lions, horses, men, and women that are not himself, but he paints himself as being a painter, that is, according to his concept.60

Here, Savonarola revealed an understanding of the individuality of a painter. Each painter had his own style of painting and his own characteristics; when painting diﬀerent subjects, he painted his own image. Savonarola was aware, for example, of the custom regarding female portraits in his day. When a man became engaged to be married and wanted a picture of the bride before the wedding, he would order a picture of her to be painted.61 Savonarola was also familiar with various techniques and colors used by the painters.62 Savonarola also showed his sensitivity to the logic of art. When explaining and emphasizing the order and harmony in the world, he compared it to the order and proportions in a painting. ‘‘A painter knows a defect in a painting and says: ‘This thing is against order’, and knows the fault that is in it’’ and further on, If a pupil has a print from the painter, which he has to paint, if he does not follow the order of that print the painter says: ‘‘You have made a mistake’’, So too God in his concerns wished to make a print so that whoever falls away from that order is at fault, and will be punished thereafter.63

60 Girolamo Savonarola. Prediche sopra Ezechiele, vol. 1, p. 343: E’ si dice che ogni dipintore dipinge se medesimo. Non dipinge già sè in quanto uomo, perché fa delle immagini di leoni, cavalli, uomini e donne che non sono sè, ma dipinge sè in quanto dipintore, idest secondo il suo concetto; e benché siano diverse fantasie e ﬁgure de’ dipintori che dipingono tamen sono tutte secondo il concetto suo. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, p. 139. 61 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra i Salmi, vol. 1, pp. 188–9: Come fa uno gran maestro che, qunado vuole tòrre una moglie, che gli è discosto, la fa venire dipinta. 62 Girolamo Savonarola. Prediche sopra Ezechiele, vol. 2, pp. 51–2: Chiama qua uno poco uno dipintore. Fatti innanzi, dipintore. Sapresti dipingere uno grappolo di uva? Voglio prima che l’abbia fatto uno intagliatore di legno; o che sia di pittura, e abbialo fatto uno scultore. Sapresti tu darli uno colore che paressi vera quella uva? Hanno, li dipintori, certi colori, massime li buoni dipintori che danno uno lustro e fanno parere la cosa viva. 63 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra Amos e Zaccaria, vol. 2, pp. 412–13: Un dipintore conosce el difetto in una dipintura e dice: Questa cosa è contra l’ordine- e conòscevi quel peccato che v’è… Se uno discepolo ha una stampa dal dipintore che egli abbia a dipignere, se egli non segue l’ordine di quella stampa, il dipintore dice:-Tu hai fatto errore-Così Dio nelle cose sue ha voluto fare una stampa che chi cade da quello ordine va in peccato, e però che e’ sia dipoi punito. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, p. 139.

  ’     

149

In a diﬀerent sermon, Savonarola explained that the painter has his rules and regulations including rules about proportions of the body.64 Savonarola was also interested in the training of apprentices. He paid considerable attention to instructing parents on how to train their sons to become artists. He explained, for example, the pupil of a painter must believe in his master in order to acquire knowledge.65 And elsewhere, he explained the requirements for a student to learn the art of painting: The ﬁrst is to set a goal for himself, that is, to be a master like the one who teaches him, or better; the second thing, to take the model that the master puts before him and keep imitating it little by little; the third thing, to be humble before his master, obey him always, have patience, continuing this process all the way to the end, and if he plans to be a painter to think not about shoes but about painting.66

The place of the ﬁne arts in Savonarola’s technique and philosophy of preaching is twofold. On the one hand, he lectured on the Bible in a simple manner that excluded descriptions of artworks as sermon exempla; on the other hand, he used art in a unique way, to explain his philosophy of religious rhetoric. Savonarola departed from the scholastic tradition of the sermo modernus and applied a more direct style of lecturing. His sacred lectures are not medieval sermons – characterized by an opening thema taken from the New Testament and followed by complex scholastic subdivisions – but more in the nature of a commentary on the Bible, in particular the books of the prophets, delivered simply and directly. Consequently, complex literary devices including descriptions of works of art do not appear in his sacred lectures.67 64 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra Ruth e Michea, vol. 1, ed. Vincenzo Romano (Rome, 1962), p. 250: El dipintore ha certi princìpi e regole, e’ quali e’ presuppone per cosa notissima nell’arte sua. Egli ha le misure; quanto sia el capo e quanto sia el braccio e le altre membra. 65 Ibid., p. 250: S’el discepolo del dipintore non volessi credere al dipintore, non impareria mai quella arte. 66 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra Amos e Zaccaria, vol. 3, p. 34: Tu hai un ﬁgliuolo e vuoi che gl’impari a dipingere. La prima cosa che ‘l fa, bisogna che si proponga innanzi el ﬁne, cioè d’essere maestro come colui che gl’insegna o migliore; la seconda cosa, e’ piglia lo esemplo innanzi che gli dà el maestro e vallo continuando a poco a poco e imitandolo; la terza cosa, e’ si umilia al maestro, obediscelo, ha l’occhio sempre a lui, ha pazienzia, va continuando el moto tanto che viene al termine suo; e se si ha proposto d’esser dipintore, non considera a fare le scarpe ma alla dipintura. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, p. 139. 67 On the distinction between sermons and sacred lectures see John O’Malley,The

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Savonarola constantly drew parallels between the vocation of the preacher and that of the artist, and suggested a kind of rivalry as well as identiﬁcation between the two professions. That rivalry, he pointed out, included a certain competition between works of art and sermons in their respective ability to convey religious messages. And here Savonarola tried to emphasize the superiority of preaching and the preacher’s importance in the society. On one occasion, he argued that if the fathers are good, the sons will be good; if the old are good, the young will be good; if the priests are good, the parishes will be good; but if the preachers are good, then all the people will be good.68 On another occasion, he explained that it is not enough for a preacher to have great eloquence and rhetoric, not enough to have philosophy, canon law or even knowledge of the ‘‘sacred scriptures’’; he must have a superior light that will illuminate the hearts of others.69 Savonarola emphasized the importance of the role of the preacher who converted the hearts of his listeners. Yet the preacher’s words had to be truthful in order to convince. His words had to be like the true ﬁre and not like the painted one; for whereas water responds to true ﬁre, it ignores the painted one.70 Savonarola mentioned art constantly in deﬁning the nature of religious rhetoric. He drew a direct parallel between religious rhetoric and the practice of the visual arts but argued for the superiority of the former. In numerous passages, he explained that nature is First Jesuits (Cambridge MA, 1993), pp. 91–110. On Savonarola’s preaching technique see Peter Howard, ‘‘The Preacher and the Holy in Renaissance Florence,’’ in Models of Holiness in Medieval Sermons, ed. Beverly M. Kienzle et al. (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1996), pp. 356–7; Armando F. Verde, ‘‘Le lezioni o i sermoni sull’Apocalisse di Girolamo Savonarola (1490): ‘Nova dicere et novo modo,’ ’’ Memorie Domenicane 19 (1988), 5–109. On the connections between Savonarola’s imagery and art see Steinberg, pp. 47–52. 68 Girolamo Savonarola. Prediche sopra Ezechiele, vol. 1, pp. 150–1: Item, se li padri fussino buoni, sariano buoni tutti li ﬁgliuoli; se li vecchi e le vecchie fussino buoni, sariano buoni li giovani e le giovane; se fussino buoni li preti, li parrocchiano sariano buoni; se li predicatori fussino buoni, saria buono tutto el populo. 69 Ibid., 195–6: Non basta al predicatore avere grande eloquenzia e retorica, perché questa pasce l’orecchio e non pasce lo spirito; e questo è governo spirituale. Non basta ﬁlosoﬁa, perchè non penetra lo spirito. Non basta legge canonica, perchè quelle sono per governo esteriore della Chiesa e questo è interiore. Non basta solo la Scrittura sacra, benchì sia buona, ma bisogna che abbi uno lume superiore grande che penetri e’ cuori. 70 Ibid., 188: Quando vengono adunque li predicatori e che tu vedi che predicano e el mondo non si muove, ma sta nelle sue lascivie e peccati, di’ che non predicono quella verità che ‘l diavolo ha in odio; ma quando tu metti el fuoco nella acqua, che è el suo contrario, l’acqua frigge e stride; ma mettevi un fuoco dipinto, l’acqua non se ne cura.

  ’     

151

superior to art and that art must try to imitate nature; similarly verbal rhetoric must be simple. He underlined that a preacher must preach in a natural manner, just as an artist must create natural works of art: The preacher that does not [preach] in a simple manner, who speaks in high rhetoric, you notice that and he bores you, and you realize that inside him there is no simplicity. It is needed that the preacher go [forth] with simplicity if he wants to produce fruits ... Ask the painter what pleases more, an image that is forced, or [one] that is natural, without eﬀort. They say that certainly the natural is better and pleases more. In the same way, rhetoric pleases more when it is unobtrusive, since it is more natural, and it does not please when you expose it and force it.71

Drawing a direct parallel between sacred rhetoric and art, Savonarola warned against using superﬁcial eﬀects in both. It is noteworthy that Savonarola referred to painters as a kind of authority that could support his reasoning, and used their view as a tool of persuasion. In his treatise The Simplicity of Christian Life, Savonarola explained: ‘‘If artiﬁcers could make their artiﬁcial works natural, there is no doubt they would. So we see they try to conceal their art.’’ Orators and painters alike, try to conceal art, so that their work will seem natural; and children’s words please more because they are without art. Preachers who use the art of rhetoric fail, in contrast with inspired apostles.72 Finally, Savonarola leads the listener again to his favorite artist, the goldsmith, and here is what follows:

71 Girolamo, Savonarola, Prediche sopra Ruth e Michea, vol. 1, pp. 142–3: Così el predicatore che non va alla simplice e che parla sopra alla retorica, tu te ne avvedi e ti dà noia, e cognosci che dentro non vi è simplicità. Bisogna ch’ el predicatore vadia con simplicità se vuole fare frutto... Domanda li dipintori, quale piace più o una ﬁgura che sia sforzata, o una che sia naturale senza sforzo. Diranno che certo è meglio e piace più la naturale. Così la retorica piace più quando è occultata, perché è più naturale, che non piace quando tu la scuopri e sforzi. 72 Girolamo Savonarola, De Simplicitate Christianae Vitae, p. 192: E se gli arteﬁci potessono fare le loro opere artiﬁciale naturale, non è dubbio alcuno che essi lo farebbono. E però noi veggiamo che loro si sforzano di occultare l’arte. Onde gli oratori insegnono che ciascuno impari l’arte, ma vogliono però che quella, mentre che l’uomo ora, si occulti. Similmente e’ pittori s’ingegnono di occultare essa arte, acciocché le opere loro paino opere naturale. E noi ancora per propria esperienzia veggiamo che gli atti e le parole de’ fanciulli delettono viascuno, perché non hanno in loro alcuna arte o duplicità, ma procedono naturalmente dalla loro forma purissima … E di qui è che gli oratori e e’ poeti, e’ quali vanno drieto all’arte, poco sono inel loro orare utili e proﬁcui. Similmente e’ predicatori, e’ quali usono alcuna arte inel loro predicare, non fanno frutto. Ma gli apostoli e gli altri predicatori, e’ quali in virtù dello spirito di Dio pronunziavono le loro parole, hanno convertito tutto il mondo.

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A man goes into a goldsmith’s shop, and sees many silver dishes there and sees the tools for making them. Although he has never seen them before, he instantly has a mental picture that a man has controlled the work, and if he is told tools made it, he says to himself: ‘‘Those tools can’t do it unless they are controlled.’’ And if he is told: ‘‘They are controlled by the hand,’’ he fancies that the hand is controlled by the mind.73

Savonarola explains that there is order in the world: in the same way that a goldsmith controls his works and his tools, so God and his messenger, the preacher, guide the world. Once again, to illustrate the nature and beneﬁts of his vocation, Savonarola has used the comparison with the goldsmith. Conclusion The connection between the rhetorical tradition and the visual image is an intriguing one. Sacred rhetoric is expressed in conservative literary genres, so preachers are tied to tradition. Yet a survey of ﬁfteenth-century sermons reveals that there was a gradual recognition on the part of preachers of the power of art, which inﬂuenced their religious discourse. A preacher would either choose to use descriptions of artworks as part of his preaching technique, as did Bernardino, or he would constantly challenge the power of art and use it to deﬁne his own vocation, as did Savonarola. Though bound by their vocation and dedicated to their religious mission, ﬁfteenth-century Italian preachers were far from blind to the fascination and attractiveness of the visual arts. Select Bibliography Creighton, E. Gilbert, Italian Art 1400–1500: Sources and Documents (Englewood Cliﬀs, NJ, 1980).

73 Girolamo Savonarola, Prediche sopra Amos e Zaccaria, vol. 2, p. 412: Uno uomo va in bottega d’uno orafo e vede là molti vasi d’argento e vede li instrumenti da farli; benché costui non abbia mai più visti, incontinente si fa una imaginazione che un uomo abbi regulato quella opera; e se gli è detto che quelli instrumenti l’abbino fatta, dice da sé:-Questi instrumenti non possono farla se non sono regulati; e se gli è detto:-E’ sono regulati dalla mano-, s’immagina che la mano sia regulata dallo intelletto. The translation is from Gilbert, Italian Art, p. 139.

  ’     

153

Delcorno, Carlo, Exemplum e letteratura (Bologna, 1989). —, ‘‘L’ars praedicandi di Bernardino da Siena,’’ in Atti del simposio internazionale Cateriniano-Bernardiniano, ed. Domenico Maﬀei and Paolo Nardi (Siena, 1982), pp. 419–49. Kienzle, Beverly Mayne, ed., The Sermon. Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental, 81–83 (Turnhout, 2000). —, ‘‘The Typology of the Medieval Sermon and Its Development in the Middle Ages: Report on Work in Progress,’’ in De l’homélie au sermon: Histoire de la prédication médiévale, ed. Jacqueline Hamesse and Xavier Hermand (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1993), pp. 81–101. Rusconi, Roberto, Predicazione e vita religiosa nella società italiana da carlo magnoalla controriforma (Turin, 1981). —, ‘‘ ‘Trasse la storia per farne la tavola’: immagini di predicatori degli ordini mendicanti nei secoli  e ,’’ in La predicazione dei frati- Atti del  convegno internazionale, ed. Enrico Menestò (Spoleto, 1995), pp. 405–50. Steinberg, Ronald, Fra Girolamo Savonarola, Florentine Art, and Renaissance Historiography (Athens, Ohio, 1977).

PLATES 1–4*

* Plates 1–4 belong tot the article The Preacher as Goldsmith: The Italian Preachers’ Use of the Visual Arts by Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby.

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1. Neroccio di Bartolomeo de’ Landi, 1470. The Preaching of St Bernardino in the Piazza del Campo: Alinari N. 36792.

2. Ambrogio Lorenzetti, 1338-40. Peace/The Eﬀects of Good Government on the City. Sala dei Nove, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena. Alinari N. 9669D.

3. Ambrogio Lorenzetti, 1338-40. Peace/ The Eﬀects of Good Government on the Country. Sala dei Nove, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena. Alinari N. 36789.

4. Ambrogio Lorenzetti, 1338-40. War / Bad Government and the City. Sala dei Nove, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena. Alinari N. 9670.

PLATES 1–8*

* Plates 1–8 belong tot the article Preaching and Image: Sermons and Wall Paintings in Later Medieval England by Miriam Gill.

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1. Wheel of Fortune. North wall of the Choir, Rochester Cathedral (c1245-50) (© Crown Copyright. NMR.)

2. St John the Baptist. Thornham Parva Retable (prior to restoration). W. W. Lillie, “The Retable at Thornham Parva,” Proceedings of the Suﬀolk Institute of Archaeology and Natural History 21 (1932-3) plate opposite 164 (detail) (By permission of the Suﬀolk Institute of Archaeology and History.)

3. Memento Mori image of the poems Erthe upon Erthe and Whoo so hym be thought. South side of the west wall, Chapel of the Guild of the Holy Cross, Stratford-upon-Avon, Warwickshire. (Wilfrid Puddephat, Shakespeare Birthplace Trust Records Oﬃce, DR 399/ 49/ J56 1262). (By permission of the Birthplace Trust.)

4. Cruciﬁxion. Upper storey of the Chantry Chapel of Abbot Islip († 1532), Westminster Abbey. From the Mortuary Roll of Abbot Islip (Westminster Abbey) (William St John Hope, ‘‘The Obituary Roll of John Islip,’’ in Vetusta Monumenta 8 part iv (1906) plate xxiii.)

5. Warning to Swearers. North wall of the nave, Broughton, Buckinghamshire. (© Crown Copyright. NMR.)

6. Warning to Gossips. West wall, Colton, Norfolk (The Conway Library, Courtauld Institute of Art, B54/ 54) (By permission of the Conway Library, Courtauld Institute of Art.)

7. St Edward’s Confessor seeing the Christ child in the host. Leofric counselling St Edward to

keep his vision secret. South arcade, Friskney, Lincolnshire. (Henry J. Cheales,

‘‘On the wall-paintings in All Saints’ Church, Friskney, Lincolnshire,’’

Archaeologia 53 (1893) pl. xxix.)

8. Ritual Host Desecration. South arcade, Friskney, Lincolnshire. (Henry J. Cheales, ‘‘On the wall-paintings in All Saints’ Church, Friskney, Lincolnshire,’’ Archaeologia 53 (1893) pl. xxxi.)

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CHAPTER SEVEN

PREACHING AND IMAGE: SERMONS AND WALL PAINTINGS IN LATER MEDIEVAL ENGLAND** Miriam Gill (Courtauld Institute of Art, University of London) Medieval apologists sometimes described monumental art such as wall paintings as ‘‘muta predicatio’’ or ‘‘silent preaching.’’1 Meditating on a religious image was presented as ‘‘synonymous with reading and hearing God’s word.’’2 The high level of didactic material found in wall paintings suggests that they were a favoured medium of religious instruction. Like sermons, they addressed a large and diverse audience, transcending the barriers between illiterate and literate. However, this self-evident connection between painting and preaching can be hard to demonstrate. There are disappointingly few unambiguous references to wall paintings, or visual images in general, in surviving English sermons.3 The most notable exception is the widely disseminated Festial (1382–90), composed by the Augustinian canon John Mirk, Prior of Lilleshall in Shropshire, which provided an annual cycle of vernacular sermons related to the church year and the feasts of prominent saints.4 Few of the hundreds of exempla or moral tales used by medieval preachers are found in English wall painting, and only two, the Warning to Swearers and the Warning to Gossips, are depicted more than * I would like to thank Dr John Goodall, Dr Elaine Treharne and Professor Greg Walker for their help with this chapter. 1 Cf. Rosemary Woolf, Art and Doctrine. Essays on Medieval Literature, ed. Heather O’Donoghue (London and Ronceverte, 1986), p. 57. 2 Helen Leith Spencer, English Preaching in the later Middle Ages (Oxford, 1993), p. 141. 3 Gerald Robert Owst, Literature and the Pulpit in Medieval England (Cambridge, 1933), p. 51. 4 Mirk’s Festial. A Collection of Homilies, ed. Theodore Erbe, Early English Text Society Extra Series 96 (London, 1905). Owst, Literature and Pulpit, p. 52. For the date of Festial, see Alan John Fletcher, ‘‘John Mirk and the Lollards,’’ Medium Aevum 56 (1987), 217–24 at 218. For its dissemination, see Martyn Francis Wakelin, ‘‘The manuscripts of John Mirk’s Festial,’’ Leeds Studies in English 1 (1967), 93–118.

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once.5 Consequently, some have concluded that medieval iconography was too abstruse for clergy, let alone their parishioners, and that its meaning was rarely expounded.6 Such an approach presents visual art as a poor substitute for preaching, and questions its value as a didactic tool or mnemonic aid. This article will demonstrate the extent to which the absence of references to art may result from the general nature of surviving sermons. It will then review the evidence for the relationship between sermons and wall paintings in three stages: direct connections, common material, and general associations. Wall paintings are not the only visual medium related to preaching. Didactic material was also presented in stained glass and sculpture.7 Numerous sermon exempla about miraculous statues may have coloured congregational attitudes to devotional representations, raising expectations that these images could be channels of divine grace.8 Many of the subjects mentioned in sermons are found in a variety of diﬀerent media, such as stained glass and sculpture. Wall paintings have been selected for this study because they survive in relatively large numbers and contain a high level of didactic material. By examining a single medium we may discern the ways in which preaching and art worked together and recognise what constitutes evidence of their interrelationship. Any examination of the relationship between preaching and murals alerts us to their individual qualities. Responding to Lollard hostility to images, Mirk stated that, ‘‘þer ben mony þousaund of pepul þat couþ not ymagen in her hert how Crist was don on þe rood, but as þai lerne hit be sygt of ymages and payntours’’.9 While visual images possessed 5 For a corpus of European exempla, see Frederick C. Tubach, Index Exemplorum (Helsinki, 1961). See also Les Exempla medievaux: Introduction à la recherche: suivie des tables critiques de l’Index exemplorum de Frederic C. Tubach, ed. Jacques Berlioz and Marie Anne Polo de Beaulieu, (Carcassonne, 1992). 6 George Gordon Coulton, Art and the Reformation (Cambridge, 1928), pp. 274, 317. For a more recent expression of similar doubts, see Robert Norman Swanson, Church and Society in Late Medieval England (Oxford, 1989), p. 279. 7 Richard Marks, Stained Glass in England during the Middle Ages (London, 1993), pp. 78–81; Ann Eljenholm Nichols, Seeable Signs. The Iconography of the Seven Sacraments (Woodbridge, 1994). 8 Martyn Francis Wakelin, ‘‘A Note on Preaching, roodes and othyr ymages in Medieval England,’’ Downside Review 103 (1985), 76–85. 9 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 171: ‘‘There are many thousands of people that could not imagine in their heart how Christ was treated on the cross, but as they learn it from the sight of images and painting.’’

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emotional immediacy, a preacher could draw on a much wider range of subjects and exempla than could ever be depicted on the limited wall space of a parish church. The Surviving Corpus of Sermons Late medieval sermons and wall paintings both constitute large corpuses of material which are often hard to access or interpret.10 Both surviving corpuses represent only a fraction of what was current in the Middle Ages. Moreover, surviving sermons and murals are very diverse, presenting a wide range of subjects, audiences and levels of sophistication. Both media were subject to innovation and fashion, and yet both could be traditional, drawing on well-established models. Indeed, a survey such as this probably tends to disguise the extent to which both media changed and developed in the period under discussion. While wall paintings are by their nature speciﬁc, many surviving sermons were composed for repeated use or general dissemination. Peripatetic preachers and the authors of model cycles could not rely on the presence of a particular image, beyond the standard representations of Christ cruciﬁed and the Virgin and Child.11 PostReformation destruction has eroded the visual context to which preachers may have made subtle reference. St Alkmund’s Shrewsbury was all but destroyed in 1794, so we cannot tell how directly the sermons of Mirk’s Festial related to the imagery of the church in which he preached. 12 The relationship between the sermon texts 10 Many important paintings have been discovered since the publication of Ernest William Tristram, English Wall Painting of the Fourteenth Century (London, 1955). The most extensive resource for late medieval wall paintings is the National Survey conducted by David Park, Director of the Department of Conservation of Wall Paintings at the Courtauld Institute of Art. For the small proportion of sermons edited and published, see Siegfried Wenzel, ‘‘Medieval Sermons,’’ in A Companion to Piers Plowman, ed. John A. Alford (Berkeley, Los Angeles and London, 1988), pp. 155–72 at 161; Siegfried Wenzel, Macaronic Sermons. Bilingualism and Preaching in Late-Medieval England (Michigan, 1994), p. . 11 In some dioceses, the parishioners were required to provide these images. Cf. Councils and Synods with Other Documents Relating to the English Church,  AD 1205–1313, ed. Frederick Maurice Powicke and Christopher Robert Cheney (Oxford, 1964), p. 1006. 12 Fletcher, ‘‘John Mirk,’’ p. 221. Other exempla used by Mirk indicate his interest in making reference to local events in his sermons: Joseph Albert Mosher, The Exemplum in the Early Religious and Didactic Literature of England (Columbia, 1911),

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which survive and what preachers actually said is irrecoverable in most instances, even the language in which Latin sermon texts were delivered is uncertain.13 Extemporisation inspired by monumental art or local events may have been very common, indeed expected, but it has left no trace.14 While wall paintings were viewed repeatedly by a local congregation, the frequency of preaching or the range of material expounded in a particular place is harder to gauge. In the wake of the Fourth Lateran Council (1215) English bishops made provision for regular sermons on pastoralia. Ignorencia Sacerdotum issued in 1281 for the archdiocese of Canterbury required four sermons a year, outlining the Creed, the Ten Commandments, the Two Evangelical Precepts, the Seven Corporal Works of Mercy, the Seven Deadly Sins and their branches, the Seven Principal Virtues and the Seven Sacraments, but there is little evidence of how faithfully this instruction was carried out in parish churches.15 However, surviving Benedictine sermons apparently intended to prepare preachers for this task suggest that pastoral preaching was taken seriously.16 There is almost no evidence for weekly preaching before the late fourteenth century, but Spencer considers that by the later Middle Ages, congregations expected a Sunday sermon.17 As parochial preaching became more frequent, we might expect that it became a more important inﬂuence in the selection of themes for monumental art. Ironically, concern about Lollardy meant that this inp. 111. 13 Louis-Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Approaches to the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ Leeds Studies in England 11 (1980), 19–35 at 22–4. For rare instances where the actual words of a preacher are recorded, see Nicole Bériou, L’avenement des maitres de la Parole: la prédication a Paris au e siècle, Collection des Études Augustiniennes, Série Moyen Âge et Temps Modernes 31–2 (Paris, 1998). 14 For probable extemporisation on current events, see Thomas J. Heﬀernan, ‘‘Sermon Literature,’’ in Middle English Prose. A Critical Guide to Major Authors and Genres, ed. Anthony Stockwell Garﬁeld Edwards (New Brunswick, New Jersey, 1984), pp. 177–208 at 185. 15 Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 48, 201, 203. 16 Patrick Horner, ‘‘Benedictines and Preaching the Pastoralia in Late Medieval England: A Preliminary Inquiry,’’ in Medieval Monastic Preaching, ed., Carolyn Muessig, Brill’s Studies in Intellectual History 90 (Leiden, Boston, Köln, 1999), pp. 279–92 at 290. 17 Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 63, 156. A weekly vernacular sermon was required in the Constitutions issued in 1357 for the Archdiocese of York, Tovio Harjunpaa, ‘‘Preaching in England during the later Middle Ages,’’ Acta Academiae Aboensis Series A Humaniora 29 (Åbo, 1965), 1–38 at 5.

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crease in the level of preaching was accompanied in the ﬁfteenth century by a restriction in the topics which could be addressed by vernacular preachers.18 Conventional attitudes to preaching and visual imagery in later medieval England were shaken by John Wyclif (†1384) and the Lollard heresy. The Constitutions issued by Archbishop Arundel (†1414) tried to halt the spread of Lollardy by limiting preaching in the vernacular to uncontentious pastoralia.19 This raised some protest and destroyed a burgeoning tradition of vernacular preaching.20 Lollard attacks on visual art provoked orthodox preachers to defend the use of religious images.21 However, the resultant polemic reveals disappointingly little about the relationship between sermons and wall paintings. Lollards focused their attack on the adoration of images.22 They also criticised certain representations which they regarded as ‘‘misleading’’, most notably, the Gnadenstuhl Trinity which showed God the Father enthroned, holding the cruciﬁed Christ and accompanied by the dove of the Holy Spirit.23 Wyclif and many of his followers accepted the use of art for teaching the illiterate, although some stated that better preaching would obviate such visual aids.24 In response, orthodox apologists repeated traditional justiﬁcations of imagery, rarely providing practical illustrations based on contemporary practice.25 Some of the most illuminating material is found in the highly individual and controversial work of Bishop Reginald Pecock, Bishop of St Asaph (†1460), who in his Repressor (1449–55) praised the power of images to help the scholar or the over-worked to recall quickly what they had ‘‘red, or herd red in book,

18

Spencer, English Preaching, p. 199. Spencer, English Preaching, p. 182. 20 Anne Hudson, ‘‘Old Authors, New Work: The sermons of MS Longleat 4,’’ Medium Aevum 53 (1984), 220–238 at 222; Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 164, 325. 21 Margaret Aston, England’s Iconoclasts.Volume I. Laws Against Images (Oxford, 1988), p. 105. 22 The term ‘‘image’’ generally designated three-dimensional representations: Aston, England’s Iconoclasts, p. 17. 23 Aston, England’s Iconoclasts, pp. 99, 131. See also, Owst, Literature and the Pulpit, pp. 136–37. 24 Spencer, English Preaching, p. 144. 25 For this debate, see W.R. James, ‘‘Lollards and Images: The Defense of Religious Art in Later Medieval England,’’ Journal of the History of Ideas 34 (1973), 27–50. 19

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or herd prechid, or seen peinted.’’26 Pecock’s statement suggests that the power of images to recall preaching may have been considered as signiﬁcant as their potential as sermon illustrations.27 Direct Connections: References to Wall Paintings in Sermons Three of the sermons of Thomas Brinton, Bishop of Rochester (†1389) to his community of Benedictine monks mention the Wheel of Fortune.28 Brinton refers to the idea of the Wheel, rather than its representation. However, the fact that part of a magniﬁcent mural of this subject (c1245–50) survives on the wall of the choir of Rochester Cathedral suggests that he had this ever-present image in mind [plate 1].29 This example raises three interesting points. Firstly, it alerts us to the fact that it may not be evident from a text that a preacher recounting an allegory or exempla was alluding to an image physically present in the church. Secondly, it reminds us that images could remain inﬂuential long after their creation. Thirdly, it raises a question about the use of sermon evidence to interpret the surviving corpus of wall paintings. Murals of the Wheel of Fortune are rare, but this is one of the subjects most frequently cited when images are directly referred to in sermons.30 Do the repeated references to the Wheel of Fortune ‘‘painted on the wall’’ indicate it was once a more common mural subject? Or do these repeated references result from the common compositional practice of copying material from existing sermons and so tell us more about the popularity of the Wheel of Fortune as a preaching topos than the frequency of its monumental depiction? While Bishop Brinton referred to an identiﬁable painting, most 26 The Repressor of Over Much blaming of the Clergy, ed. Churchill Babington, Rolls Society 19 (London, 1860), vol. 1, p. 214: ‘‘read or heard read from a book, or heard preached or seen painted.’’ 27 This interaction is recognized in Owst, Literature and the Pulpit, p. 516; Ellen M. Ross, The Grief of God. Images of the Suﬀering Jesus in Late Medieval England (New York and Oxford, 1997), p. 55. 28 The Sermons of Thomas Brinton, Bishop of Rochester (1372–1389), ed. Mary Aquinas Devlin, 2 vols., Camden Third Series, 85–6 (London, 1954), vol. 85, pp. 10, 99, 154. 29 David Park, ‘‘Wall Painting,’’ in Age of Chivalry, ed. Jonathan Alexander and Paul Binski (London, 1987), pp. 125–30 at 127. 30 Owst, Literature and the Pulpit, p. 239; Tristram, Fourteenth Century, p. 27.

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sermon references to art are generic, describing a subject and sometimes the media in which it was commonly represented. Such references range from straightforward explanations to complex allegories. The simplest consist of very general references to the practice of painting churches, for example, the Summa Predicantium by the fourteenth-century Dominican John Bromyard mentions ‘‘fair polished and painted stone’’ and beautifully decorated churches, while the sermon preached by the secular priest Thomas Wimbledon at St Paul’s Cross in c.1388 condemns prelates for painting their houses as if they were churches.31 As Owst remarked, such references often betray a distrust of art as an expression of pride or falsehood and artiﬁce.32 For example, Bromyard contrasts magniﬁcent funerary monuments with the putrefaction of the corpses they contain.33 However, some sermons refer speciﬁcally to subjects represented in art. In his sermon for St Margaret’s day, Mirk reminds the congregation of the Saint’s familiar iconography to reinforce his message: ‘‘Herfor Margret ys payntyd oþur coruen …wyth a dragon vndyr her fete and a cros yn her hond, schowyng how by uertu of þe cros scho gate þe victory of þe fynde.’’34 This is the standard iconography for the Saint. It can be found in numerous wall paintings, including that at Little Wenham in Suﬀolk (late thirteenth or early fourteenth century).35 However, most of Mirk’s references to art extend beyond the simple elucidation of iconographic symbols. He interprets traditional iconography as an expression of the Virgin’s love when he explains that the Virgin is always shown with the Christ child: ‘‘Forto schew all crystyn pepull how moche scho louet hor sonne Ihesu.’’36 In the same way the Franciscan author of the early fourteenth-century Fasciculus Morum

31

See for example, Owst, Literature and the Pulpit, pp. 49–50, 279. Owst, Literature and the Pulpit, pp. 48–9. 33 Owst, Literature and the Pulpit, pp. 49, 313. 34 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 201: ‘‘Therefore Margaret is painted or carved… with a dragon under her feet and a cross in her hand, showing how by virtue of the cross, she gained victory over the ﬁend.’’ For similar explanations of iconography, see Dives and Pauper, ed. Priscilla Heath Barnum, Early English Text Society Original Series 275 (1976), pp. 91–99; Spencer, English Preaching, p. 183. 35 David Park and Helen Howard, ‘‘The Medieval Polychromy’’, in Norwich Cathedral. Church, City and Diocese, 1096–1996, ed. Ian Atherton, Eric Fernie, Christopher Harper-Bill and Hassell Smith (London and Rio Grande, 1996), pp. 379–409 at 398–9. 36 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 247: ‘‘For to show all Christian people how much she loved her son, Jesus.’’ 32

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interprets the ubiquity of the cross as a sign of Christ’s repeated loving appeals to humanity.37 Thus both preachers encourage an emotive interpretation of common imagery. Mirk combines allegory and narrative to explain the representation of a lily in a pot in scenes of the Annunciation,38 a detail which is found in numerous medieval paintings including a mural at South Newington, Oxfordshire (early 1340s).39 His two distinct explanations are presented in the story of a dispute between a Christian and a Jew. First the Christian likens the Virgin Birth to the way the green stem of a lily brings forth a white ﬂower. When the unconvinced Jew declares: ‘‘When I se a lyly spryng out of þys potte, I wyll leue, and er not,40’’ his scepticism is countered by the immediate occurrence of the requested wonder. This narrative of the miraculous proof of the Virgin Birth provides a second justiﬁcation for the traditional iconography. In this sermon for Lady Day Mirk omits any straight-forward iconographic interpretation of the lily as a symbol of purity, presenting it instead as a metaphor for, and a miraculous proof of, Mary’s Virginal Conception. However, Mirk’s most elaborate allegorical treatment is associated with his description of images of Christ showing his wounds while sitting between St Peter and St Paul. This description suggests a painting of the Last Judgement in which St Paul appears as the twelfth apostle. However, Mirk’s theme is not judgement but mercy. He describes the vicinity of the saints to Christ as proof of His love for sinners and interprets their attributes as, ‘‘schowyng þat al þat wyll by ensampull of Powle kutt away wyth the sworde of confessyon the cheynes of dedly synne’’ will be let into Heaven by St Peter.41 Like a preacher recounting an exemplum, Mirk elucidates the image to ﬁt his own purpose, not mentioning its visual context or the fact that 37 Siegfried Wenzel, Fasciculus Morum. A Fourteenth-century Preacher’s Handbook (Pennsylvania and London, 1989), p. 211. 38 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, pp. 108–9. 39 Tristram, Fourteenth Century, pp. 226–229, plate 20 ; Paul Binski, ‘‘Style and Date,’’ in Dominican Painting in East Anglia.The Thornham Parva Retable and the Musée de Cluny Frontal, ed. Christopher Norton, David Park and Paul Binski (Woodbridge, 1987), pp. 57–81 at 75. 40 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 109: ‘‘When I see a lily spring out of this pot, then I will believe, but until then not.’’ The element of internal rhyme makes the statement more emphatic. 41 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 187: ‘‘Showing that all who will after the example of Paul cut away with the sword of confession the chains of Deadly Sin.’’

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St Paul’s attribute, the sword, refers to his martyrdom. In a similar vein, the author of Fasciculus Morum likens mortals governed by animal passions to ‘‘those images called babewynes ‘grotesques’, which painters depict on walls.’’42 Such creatures are more common in manuscript illumination than wall painting, but mural examples survive, perhaps most incongruously in the Capella ante Portas of the Cistercian Abbey of Hailes in Gloucestershire (c1320–30).43 Although this type of hybrid grotesque is often dismissed as meaningless, the author of Fasciculus Morum assigns a moral meaning to them and may have taken them as inspiration for his own later description of the god of the belly with the head of a pig, the body of the leech and the hindquarters of an ass.44 Evidence from sermons and preaching manuals suggests that this allegorical use of images came to be regarded as a distinct category of sermon rhetoric. In his Form of Preaching written in 1322 Robert of Basevorn suggested that preachers could support their arguments by appealing to instances, ‘‘in nature, in art [and] in history.’’45 It is clear from the example oﬀered by Basevorn that ‘‘art’’ was broadly interpreted to include all the arts and also instances of artiﬁce. For example, Basevorn gives the example of a doctor building up the conﬁdence of his patient, while the ﬁfteenth-century Oxford vicar Philip Felton described the analogy of a dead body on a silk bier as one drawn from ‘‘art’’.46 However, an instance of an argument ‘‘per picturam’’ can be found in the discussion of the roundel of the Agnus Dei in the 1431 Good Friday sermon which the Franciscan preacher, Nicholas Philip delivered in King’s Lynn.47 Philip’s reference to a roundel suggests that he had in mind the disc (clipeus) held by St John the Baptist. This is common in fourteenthcentury representations of the Saint including a mural at Heacham in Norfolk (c1340) and the Thornham Parva Retable (c.1330–40) 42

Wenzel, Fasciculus Morum, p. 515. David Park, ‘‘Cistercian Wall Painting and Panel Painting,’’ in Cistercian Art and Architecture in the British Isle, ed. C. Norton and D. Park (Cambridge, 1986), pp. 181–210 at 200–4. 44 Wenzel, Fasciculus Morum, p. 631. 45 Leopold Krul, ‘‘Robert Basevorn. The Form of Preaching,’’ in Three Medieval Rhetorical Arts, ed. James J. Murphy (Berkeley, Los Angeles and London, 1971), pp. 109–216 at 155. 46 Krul, ‘‘Robert of Basevorn’’, pp. 155–56; Alan J. Fletcher, Preaching and Politics in Late Medieval England (Dublin, 1998), p. 91. 47 Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 76, 341. 43

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[plate 2].48 Both these representations include the detail of the lamb holding the cross with one leg which is central to Philip’s allegory. Philip interprets the circle as symbolising the totality of Christ’s suﬀerings and associates the three legs on which the lamb stands as Christ’s joy, fear and sorrow, while it clasps the cross with his fourth leg, symbolising love. Philip thus transforms the four legs into a schema or visual framework with which he can associate the main points of a subsection of his sermon, possibly in order to make them more memorable. However, the interpretation of the gesture of clasping the cross introduces a more theologically developed and emotionally powerful interpretation of an iconographic symbol. However, such allegorical interpretations of contemporary religious imagery seem to be less common in later medieval sermons than elaborate ‘‘pictures’’, verbal descriptions of hybrid ﬁgures, replete with dramatic attributes and inscriptions, which are often described as subjects from classical art.49 This form of sermon illustration seems to have been developed by the classizing friars of the early fourteenth century and is particularly evident in the work of Robert Holcot, although it became more widely disseminated.50 For example, a sermon from Worcester attributed to Hugh Legate a monk of St Alban’s (†c1431) includes a description of the image of Apollo, which is used to give structure to a discourse on Christ as Holy Wisdom.51 For example, the bow and arrow held by Apollo signify Christ’s righteousness in punishment, while his harp symbolizes the meekness and melody of Christ’s mercy and his garland Christ’s grace and goodness. Although some of these ‘‘pictures’’ made reference to familiar elements of medieval iconography, such as the presentation of Pride as a crowned king, these hybrid images were not descriptions of contemporary art nor were they originally intended for pictorial

48 Tristram, Fourteenth Century, p. 179, plate 55b; David Park, ‘‘Form and Content,’’ in Norton, Park and Binski, Dominican Painting, p. 41. 49 Spencer, English Preaching, p. 76. 50 Beryl Smalley, English Friars and Antiquity in the Early Fourteenth Century (Oxford, 1960), pp. 165–83. 51 Three Middle English Sermons from the Worcester Chapter MS F. 10, ed. Dora Mortimer Grisdale, Leeds School of English Language Texts and Monographs 5 (Leeds, 1939), p. 13.

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representation. 52 However, if the allegorisation of standard iconography, such as Peter and Paul and the Agnus Dei implies that congregations were expected to have a good visual memory of religious art, then they were also expected to assemble complex images in their imagination, possibly in order to help them remember the theme of the sermon. The visual literacy suggested by the allegorising approach of Mirk and Philip is tempered by Mirk’s references to the ‘‘misreading’’ of images of the Evangelists and Magi.53 Mirk introduces his description of the iconography of the Four Evangelists with the statement, ‘‘mony lewde men wenen þat þay [the Evangelists] wern suche bestys and not men.’’54 Perhaps Mirk was responding to his audience’s genuine puzzlement; zoomorphic representation of the Four Evangelists was not common in the fourteenth century compared with previous centuries.55 On the other hand, he may perhaps have been seeking to counter Lollard criticism of ‘‘misleading’’ iconography. Alternatively, the established tradition of addressing the ‘‘errors of the laity’’ may have inspired him to ‘‘invent’’ the problem to justify his lengthy explanation, much of which is derived from the Rationale of Durandus of Mende (†1291).56 Mirk also describes the common convention of showing one of the Magi turning back to point at the star or converse with his fellows; an example of such an image is found at Earl Stonham in Suﬀolk dating from the second quarter of the ﬁfteenth century.57 He then explains ‘‘lewde men … sayne, þat he had slayne a mon, wherfor

52 Spencer, English Preaching, p. 76. For Pride as a king, see Smalley, English Friars and Antiquity, p. 178. 53 These are interpreted as examples of congregational ignorance in, Alan CaigerSmith, English Medieval Mural Painting (Oxford, 1963), pp. 106–07. 54 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 261: ‘‘many unlearned men think that they [the Evangelists] were this sort of beast and not men.’’ The author of Dives and Pauper (c. 1405–10) reverses the question asking why they are shown as animals, since all four of them were men. See Barnum, Dives and Pauper, p. 96. 55 Tristram, Fourteenth Century, p. 18. 56 Joseph Goering, ‘‘The Summa, Qui bene presunt and its Author,’’ in Literature and Religion in the later Middle Ages. Philological Studies in Honour of Siegfried Wenzel, ed. Richard G. Newhauser and John A. Alford, Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies 18 (Binghamton, New York, 1995), pp. 143–60 at 151; The Symbolism of Churches and Church Ornaments. A Translation of the First Book of the Rationale Divinorum Oﬃciorum, William Durandus, ed. John Mason Neale and Benjamin Webb (London, 1906), pp. 60–1. 57 Harold Augustus Harris, ‘‘Medieval Mural Paintings,’’ Proceedings of the Suﬀolk Institute of Archaeology and Natural History 19 (1927), 286–303, plate II.

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he turned backeward.’’58 This second misreading of iconography is related to the association of ‘‘riding backwards’’ with disgrace.59 However, rather than demonstrating ignorance, it suggests an intriguing over-enthusiasm for interpreting imagery, not far divorced from the pulpit tradition of reinterpreting and allegorising traditional religious art outlined above. A further source of evidence for preachers using imagery is more diﬃcult to evaluate. This consists of injunctions to ‘‘behold’’. For example, a Worcester Lenten sermon urges the congregation to, ‘‘behold how lowliche & how goodliche [Christ] a spak to His modir.’’60 The power of such an appeal would be strengthened by the ubiquitous image of the rood. But such injunctions were a common rhetorical device in devotional literature, and therefore they may not always indicate the presence of visual images.61 Direct Connections: Wall Paintings containing Texts and Images from Sermons Murals contain textual quotations from lyrics included in sermons and illustrations of exempla. However, since preaching related to a wide variety of literary genres, much of this didactic material also circulated in other contexts such as veniality satire or liturgy.62 We cannot be certain that where these common texts and images are found in murals they were always derived from preaching, although it was probably from the pulpit that they reached their widest audience. The Wheel of Fortune at Catﬁeld in Norfolk dating from the late fourteenth century contained fragments of a Latin tag also found

58 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 49: ‘‘unlearned men… say, that he had slain a man, for which reason he turned backward.’’ 59 Ruth Mellinkoﬀ, ‘‘Riding backwards: the theme of humiliation and a symbol of evil,’’ Viator 4 (1973), 153–76. 60 Grisdale,Three Middle English Sermons, p. 46: ‘‘Behold, how meekly and excellently Christ spoke to his mother.’’ 61 Verdel Amos Kolve, Chaucer and the Imagery of Narrative. The First Five Canterbury Tales (London and Michigan, 1984), p. 30; Siegfried Wenzel, Preachers, Poets and the Early English Lyric (Princeton, 1986), p. 116. 62 Wenzel, ‘‘Medieval Sermons,’’ p. 155.

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in sermons: ‘‘regno, regnabo, regnavi, sum sine regno.’’63 A unique image on the west wall of the Guild Chapel in Stratford-upon-Avon dating from after 1496 includes a seven verse text of the early fourteenth-century poem Erthe upon Erthe [plate 3].64 This memento mori poem is one of the lyrics found in John of Grimestone’s preaching book of c1372.65 The painting includes a second shorter thirteenthcentury poem, ‘‘Whoo so hym be thought,’’ also used by preachers, which commends the recollection of death against temptation.66 The unique imagery of the Stratford painting relates to both poems. It focuses on a shrouded corpse, lying in an open grave, literally ‘‘earth upon earth.’’ The shorter poem also describes the ﬁnal journey ‘‘from bede to peyt’’ (from bed to pit), culminating in a ﬁnal declension ‘‘from peyt to peyne’’ (from pit to pain).67 This idea of downward movement is emphasised by the two kneeling ﬁgures which ﬂank the corpse and which may be intended to represent a burial party. The architectural follies which frame the image recall the ‘‘castellys and towrys’’ (castles and towers) which characterize earthly pride in Erthe upon Erthe.68 The central Cherub recalls the use of this ﬁgure as a mnemonic schema for penitence in the tract De Sex Aliis Cherubim ascribed to Alan of Lille (†1203).69 Although more

63 Dawson Turner, ‘‘Mural Paintings in Catﬁeld Church,’’ Norfolk Archaeology 1 (1847), 133–9 at 137: ‘‘I reign, I will reign, I did reign, I am without a kingdom.’’ For this tag in sermons, see Siegfried Wenzel, Verses in Sermons. ‘Fasciculus Morum’ and its Middle English Poems, Medieval Academy of America 87 (Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1978), pp. 175, 177. 64 Cliﬀord Davidson,The Guild Chapel Wall Paintings at Stratford upon Avon (New York, 1988), pp. 9, 72; The Middle English Poem, Erthe upon Erthe printed from 24 Manuscripts, ed. Hilda Mary Ruthven Murray, Early English Text Society Original Series 141 (Oxford, 1911), p. 11.The only other possible instance of an illustration associated with the poem is a prayer roll of c.1400 of unknown location, which shows a skeleton with a mattock, see The Five Wounds of Christ. A Poem from an Ancient Parchment Roll by William Billyng (Manchester, 1814), fol. 10r. 65 Wenzel, Verses in Sermons, pp. 125–6; A Descriptive Index of the English Lyrics in John of Grimestone’s Preaching Book, ed. Edward Wilson, Medium Aevum Monographs New Series 2 (Oxford, 1973), p. 54. 66 Wenzel, Verses in Sermons, p. 198: ‘‘Whoever Considered’’; Richard G. Newhauser, ‘‘Strong it is to ﬂitte-A Middle English Poem on Death and its Pastoral Context,’’ in Literature and Religion, pp. 319–36. 67 Davidson, The Guild Chapel, p. 9.

68 Davidson, The Guild Chapel, p. 48.

69 Alanus de Insulis, Alani de Insulis doctoris universalis opera omnia, Patrologia Latina

210 (Paris, 1855), cols. 267–280.

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common in manuscript illumination, such a moralized Cherub is depicted in the paintings of the Last Judgement in the Chapter House at Westminster Abbey (c.1380s).70 In addition to short tags and admonitory texts, many later medieval preachers dramatised their sermons with emotive appeal poems, for example, the Good Friday sermon in Speculum Sacerdotale includes ten line poem of the words of Christ to sinful humanity beginning ‘‘Lystne, man, lystne to me.’’71 In the same way Latin and vernacular versions of the appeal couplet, ‘‘In cruce sum pro te’’ (I am on the cross for thee) are found in sermons. 72 This couplet was painted in St Alban’s Cathedral beneath a painting of Doubting Thomas which date from 1428 and was probably displayed beneath an image of the Cruciﬁxion accompanied by the Arma Christi on the upper level of the Chantry Chapel of Abbot Islip (†1532) in Westminster Abbey [plate 4]; the same poem was depicted beneath, ‘‘a curious picture representing the whole Passion of Christ’’ recorded in Hatﬁeld Parish Church in the West Riding of Yorkshire.73 At Hatﬁeld the couplet came at the end of a longer poem, ‘‘Aspice mortalis, fuit unquam passio talis’’ (Behold O mortal, was there ever such suﬀering) an English translation of which is also found in Grimestone’s preaching book.74 Congregational response to these often emotive poems may have been heightened by the recollection or presence of monumental images, while the public display of such verses alongside devotional imagery recalled the eloquence of the pulpit.75 The direct connection between preaching and wall painting is most evident in the mural depiction of exempla. Like monumental 70 Lucy Freeman Sandler, The Psalter of Robert de Lisle in the British Library (Oxford, 1983) p. 80; Caroline Babington, Tracey Manning and Sophie Stewart, Our Painted Past. Wall Paintings of English Heritage (London, 1999), pp. 10, 30–2. 71 Speculum Sacerdotale, ed. Edward H. Weatherly, Early English Text Society Original Series 200 (London, 1936), p. 112. 72 Wenzel, Macaronic Sermons, pp. 96–7. 73 Eileen Roberts, The Wall Paintings of St Albans Abbey (St Alban’s, 1993), p. 41; John Weever, Ancient Funeral Monuments of Great-Britain, Ireland and the Islands Adjacent (London, 1767), p. 488; London, Society of Antiqaries, MS 127 fol. 71r; Barbara D. Palmer, The Early Art of the West Riding of Yorkshire. A Subject List of Extant and Lost Art Including Items Relevant to Early Drama, Early Drama, Art and Music Reference 6 (Kalamazoo, 1990), p. 106. 74 Wilson, A Descriptive Index, p. 216. 75 For the dual purpose of such poetry to move and remind, see Siegfried Wenzel, Preaching, Poets and the Early English Lyric (Princeton, 1986), p. 116.

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art, exempla were considered appropriate for uneducated congregations.76 However, only a handful of exempla images survive in wall painting. Some representations, such as the Man on the Bridge at Cleeve Abbey (Cistercian) in Somerset and the eucharistic miracles at Friskney in Lincolnshire are unique.77 Only the Warning to Swearers and the Warning to Gossips are depicted more than once. The Warning to Swearers was depicted in murals at Broughton in Buckinghamshire (c1410) [plate 5] and Corby Glen in Lincolnshire (c1400), and a window at Heydon in Norfolk (now lost); it also inﬂuenced the iconography of a lost painting at Walsham-le-Willows in Norfolk (c1470).78 Medieval polemic against swearing was based on the idea expressed by writers such as Bernard of Clairvaux that Christ’s body was dismembered by swearing per membra with oaths such as, ‘‘Be þe nie of God þis was good ale.’’79 In England this idea was expressed in a story of the Virgin confronting a swearer with the injured body of her son. Probably the earliest version of this tale is found in the Fasciculus Morum which was written by an anonymous Franciscan shortly after 1300. The Fasciculus Morum employs contemporary references, describing the swearer as the servant of a Lombard, Hubert de Lorgo, who was buried in the London Blackfriars.80 The transformation of contemporary anecdotes into exempla was a characteristic of mendicant preaching.81 The exemplum relates how the servant on his sick bed is confronted by a vision of a beautiful lady carrying an injured boy. She asks the servant to pronounce sentence on those who have committed this outrage against her child. He thus condemns himself. After relating the vision, he dies, presumably damned. 76

Fletcher, Preaching and Politics, pp. 178–79; Spencer, English Preaching, pp. 262–63. Babington, Manning and Stewart, Our Painted Past, p. 47. See also, Miriam Gill, ‘‘The Role of Images in Monastic Education: The evidence from wall painting in late medieval England,’’ in Medieval Monastic Education, ed. George Ferzoco and Carolyn Muessig (London, 2000), pp. 117–35. 78 Edward Clive Rouse, ‘‘Wall Paintings in the Church of St John the Evangelist, Corby Glen,’’ Archaeological Journal 100 (1943), 150–76 at 157–63. 79 The oath is from Heydon: Christopher Woodforde, The Norwich School of Glass Painting in the Fifteenth Century (Oxford, 1950), p. 184: ‘‘By the knee of God that was good ale.’’ St Bernard’s formulation is found in many treatises, for example, Gustaf Holmstedt, ed., Speculum Christiani, Early English Text Society Original Series 182 (London, 1933), pp. 20–1. 80 Wenzel, Fasciculus Morum, p. 22. 81 David L. D’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars. Sermons Diﬀused from Paris before 1300–(Oxford, 1985), p. 198. 77

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Whether or not it was based on an incident in London the rapid transmission of this exemplum is suggested by the approximately contemporary variant included in Lincolnshire composition Handlyng Synne which omits the personal details described above and gives the tale a happy ending; signiﬁcantly this story is ascribed to a mendicant source.82 In the fourteenth and ﬁfteenth centuries the story of the swearer’s vision became popular in English didactic literature and circulated in numerous variants, with diﬀerent settings and conclusions.83 This exemplum was probably selected for monumental portrayal because it warned against breaking the second commandment.The Ten Commandments were an important feature in syllabuses of lay education such as that proposed in Ignorencia Sacerdotum, but no mural paintings of them survive in England. Blasphemy did not ﬁt easily into the more frequently represented programme of the Seven Deadly Sins. In contemporary treatises swearing was variously considered as an aspect of Envy, Wrath or Gluttony.84 However, as the popularity of this exemplum suggests, swearing seems to have concerned late medieval preachers, both orthodox and Lollard. The representation of this graphic warning in church art may also relate to the fact that swearing came under ecclesiastical jurisdiction.85 Images of the Warning to Swearers are emblematic, rather than narrative. They do not show the single swearer of the story, but present the mutilated Pietà and focus on the message that swearing tears Christ’s body. Thus these murals of the mutilated Pietà and crowd of swearers confront the viewer with an equivalent of the shocking ‘‘vision’’ described in the exemplum. While the painting at Broughton does not show the fate of the swearers, those at Corby Glen are wounded by devils, while the Heydon glass showed swearers in Hell. A poem in a ﬁfteenth-century manuscript presents a 82 Robert Mannyng of Brunne’s ‘Handlyng Synne’ AD 1303, ed. Frederick James Furnivall, 2 vols., Early English Text Society Original Series 119 and 123, vol. 1 (London, 1901), pp. 25–8. 83 For example, Peter Whiteford, The Myracles of Oure Lady edited from Wykyn de Worde’s Edition, Middle English Texts 23 (Heidelberg, 1990), pp. 110, 112, 117, 118, 123, 127. 84 Edwin D. Craun, ‘‘Inordinata Locutio: Blasphemy in pastoral literature, 1200–1500,’’ Traditio 39 (1983), 135–162, at 137. 85 Anon, ‘‘Churchwarden’s Presentments 1520,’’ Oxfordshire Archaeological Society 70 (1925), pp. 75–117 at 211.

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dialogue between the Virgin and numerous swearers which has aﬃnities with the Heydon text. 86 This literary form may have inﬂuenced or been inﬂuenced by the visual tradition. While the visual images probably ultimately derived from sermon exempla, they use diﬀerent techniques to confront the viewer and focus on the idea of swearing tearing Christ’s body, rather than the drama of an individual swearer and his fate. To some extent, the viewer of the painting takes the place of the swearer of the exempla. The mural presents the viewer with the monumental equivalent of the swearer’s vision, and it is his or her response which will determine with the encounter has ‘‘a happy ending.’’ A similar disjunction between the original exemplum and subsequent iconography is evident in the Warning to Gossips. This was a more popular subject, identiﬁed in ﬁfteen murals dating from the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.87 Twelve of these murals are still extant. The subject is also found in stained glass and sculpture, particularly misericords.88 The Warning to Gossips presented the idea that devils record and sometimes encourage gossip in church. Its earliest identiﬁed expression is an exemplum by Jacques de Vitry (†1240).89 While the original story described a congregation of gossips whose words are recorded by a demon scribe, by the mid thirteenth century the story was associated with a pair of women, depicted in most English wall paintings.90 This story was disseminated across Europe in preaching and didactic works.91 It was sometimes associ86 Mittelenglische Dichtungen aus der Handschrift 423 des Trinity College in Dublin, ed. Rudolf Brotanek, (Halle, 1940). 87 Alexander and Binski, Age of Chivalry, p. 444. In addition, Eaton in Norfolk and Nedging by Naughton in Suﬀolk: Anna Hulbert, ‘‘Conference Review,’’ Conservation News 49 (1992), 34–5 at 34. 88 Marks, Stained Glass, 80, ﬁg. 52; George Lyons Remnant, A Catalogue of Misericords in Great Britain, with an essay on their Iconography by M. D. Anderson (Oxford, 1969), pp. xxxix, 19, 58, 93–4, 114, 132, 141, pls. 15c, 16b. 89 The Exempla or Illustrative Stories from the Sermones Vulgares of Jacques de Vitry, ed. Thomas Frederick Crane, The Folklore Society Publications 26 (London, 1890), p. 97. 90 The ‘Stella Maris’ of John of Garland Edited Together with a Study of Certain Recollections of Mary Legends made in Northern France in the Twelfth and Thirteenth centuries, ed. Evelyn Faye Wilson (Cambridge Massachusetts, 1946), pp. 129–30, 193–4. 91 Michael Camille, ‘‘The Devil’s Writing: Diabolic literacy in medieval art,’’ in World Art Themes of Unity in Diversity. Acts of the th International Congress of the History of Art, ed. Ivring Lavin (Pennsylvania State University, 1989), pp. 355–58; Peter Halm, ‘‘Der schreibende Teufel,’’ in Cristianesimo e Ragion di Stato. L’Umanesimo e il Demoniaco nell’Arte. Atti del. II Congresso Internazionale di Studi Umanistici, ed. Enrico Castelli, Centro Internazionale di Studi Umanistici (Rome and Milan, 1953), pp. 235–49; Margaret

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ated with local saints.92 It is found in numerous variants in England.93 The composition used at Colton in Norfolk (second half of fourteenth century) is typical of English murals [plate 6]. It shows two seated women in conversation, holding prayer beads. Two demons push on their backs and shoulders, while a third braces their heads together with his legs. As in the Warning to Swearers, much of the detail of the narrative tradition is omitted. Even the recording demon is rarely shown in English images. Instead the viewer is confronted with an image of the diabolical origins of gossiping in church. In many continental depictions of the subject, the devils are shown at a distance from the women.94 By contrast, Mirk records that ‘‘þe fend sate on her schuldyrs’’.95 Perhaps he included this detail to relate the story more closely to the insular visual tradition with which his congregation was probably familiar? This exemplum was surely depicted in church murals because it admonished irreverent behaviour during Mass. Like swearing, this problem could not be adequately addressed in the common schema of the Seven Deadly Sins found from the fourteenth century. Sloth was usually associated with somnolent non-attendance rather than misbehaviour in church.96 Like swearing, gossiping in church came under ecclesiastical jurisdiction.97 Both the Warning to Swearers and the Warning to Gossips also adopted a similar visual technique, confronting the viewer with a ‘‘revelation’’ of the horrifying nature of what may have seemed a rather minor failing.

Jennings, ‘‘Tutivillus: the literary career of the recording demon,’’ Studies in Philology 74 no. 5 (1977), 1–93; Arthur Långfors, ‘‘Le sous-diacre, les deux femmes bavardes et le diable. Conte pieux traduit du Latin du Vincent de Beauvais par un frère prêcheur du Soissonnais,’’ Mémoires de la Société Néo-Philologique de Helsingfors 8 (1929), 389–408; Holger Rasmussen, ‘‘Der schreibende Teufel in Nordeuropa,’’ in Festschrift Matthias Zender. Studien zu Volkskultur, Sprache und Landesgeschichte, ed. Edith Ennen and Guenther Wiegelmann vol. 1 (Bonn, 1972), pp. 455–64. 92 Jennings ‘‘Tutivillus’’, pp. 28–30. 93 See for example, The Book of the Knight of La Tour Landry, ed. Thomas Wright, Early English Text Society Original Series 33 (London, 1906), pp. 41–2. 94 The devil is described sitting in the window in Vincent of Beauvais: Långfors, ‘‘Le sous-diacre,’’ p. 405. 95 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 279: ‘‘The ﬁend sat on their shoulders.’’ The devil is described as ‘‘betwyx’’ the two women in Furnivall, Handlyng Synne, p. 291. 96 See for example, Fasisculus Morum, p. 403. 97 The Courts of the Archdeaconry of Buckingham, 1483–1523, ed. Elizabeth Mary Elvey, Buckinghamshire Record Society 19 (Welwyn Garden City, 1975), p. 179.

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Common Material: Echoes of Visual Material in Sermons

As is evident from Mirk’s retelling of the exemplum of the gossips, preachers might refer to details familiar from visual art, without stating that they were referring to an image. One common instance is the use of tree imagery in discussions of Sin.98 In the twelfth century the arboreal analogies used in patristic writings about vice found visual expression in elaborate schema, elucidated by didactic treatises.99 By the thirteenth century, bishops and preachers used the terminology of the roots and branches of vices without feeling the need to make explicit reference to the schema of the tree.100 For a medieval congregation, this arboreal terminology would undoubtedly recall the Tree of Sin found in wall painting.101 Sermon descriptions of the Last Judgement, devils, Heaven, and Hell are often cited as examples of preachers being inspired by or seeking to recall visual images, such as wall paintings.102 Given the common Biblical and patristic sources from which both literary and visual imagery derive, it is diﬃcult to assess the debt each owed the other. For example, Mirk bases his description of Hell on a vision recorded by Bede, but draws attention to details such as the mouth of Hell and the boiling of souls in a cauldron which are also common in late medieval Doom paintings.103 A preacher could take the opportunity to draw further morals from the gruesome details of Doom paintings. For example, a Palm Sunday sermon contained in London, British Library MS Royal 18.B.xxiii describes how: ‘‘som shall be hanged be þe tounge and devels inow to turment þat membur. And þo shall be þese bacbyters and þise false spekers of here even-cristen.’’104 As 98 Quattor Sermones, reprinted from the ﬁrst edition printed by William Caxton at Westminster Roxburghe Club (London, 1883), pp. 27, 29; A Study and Edition of Selected Middle English Sermons. Richard Alkerton’s Easter Week sermon preached at St Mary Spital in 1406, A Sermon on Sunday Observance, and a Nunnery Sermon for the Feast of the Assumption, ed. Veronica M. O’Mara, Leeds Texts and Monograph New Series 13 (Leeds, 1994), p. 62. 99 Morton Wilfrid Bloomﬁeld,The Seven Deadly Sins (Michigan, 1952), p. 80; Jennifer O’Reilly, Studies in the Iconography of the Virtues and Vices in the Middle Ages (New York and London, 1988), pp. 365–6. 100 Spencer, English Preaching, p. 203. 101 Tristram, Fourteenth Century, p. 102. 102 Coulton, Art and the Reformation, p. 566. 103 Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 5. 104 Middle English Sermons Edited from the British Museum MS Royal 18 X B. , ed. Woodburn O. Ross, Early English Text Society Original Series 209 (London, 1940), p. 174: ‘‘Some shall be hanged by the tongue and devils enough to torment that member.

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Caiger-Smith points out, a preacher could range through the wealth of imagery associated with the Last Judgement, one moment focusing on the fear of Hell and the next holding out the hope of Heaven.105 However, preachers did not always feel constrained to follow the visual tradition. The immediacy of the sermon cited above contrasts with the lack of visual sense found in the account of the Last Judgement in one of the Advent sermons in the ﬁfteenth-century revision of Mirk’s Festial in which the preacher describes all the saints and Apostles on Christ’s right hand.106 This description ignores the conventions of Doom iconography in which the twelve Apostles are presented on both sides of Christ, while John the Baptist or John the Evangelist kneel on his left hand side, interceding for souls. Common Material: Themes in Wall Painting and Preaching In the later Middle Ages it was generally thought that pastoralia constituted the most suitable sermon material for the poor and uneducated, and that further knowledge of scripture was superﬂuous, even spiritually dangerous.107 As has been mentioned, from the early ﬁfteenth-century, preaching in the vernacular was limited to the catechetical content of Ignorencia Sacerdotum.108 Caiger-Smith observed that ‘‘provincial wall paintings repeatedly represented the same themes’’, as the pastoral syllabus.109 In one of the earliest such compilations, Richard Wetheringsett, bishop of Lincoln (about 1220–29) instructed preachers to ‘‘preach what reward the just in heaven will be, both in body and soul. And what pains the damned have in Hell.’’110 This message was presented in parish wall painting in the almost ubiquitous Last Judgement or Doom. Wetheringsett also urged preachers to focus on the Nativity And they shall be these backbiters and these false speakers of their fellow Christians.’’ 105 Caiger-Smith, English Medieval Mural Paintings, pp. 42–3. 106 The Advent and Nativity Sermons from a Fifteenth-century Revision of John Mirk’s Festial from BL Harl. 2247, Royal 18. B xxv and Gloucester Cathedral Lib 22, ed. Susan Powell, Middle English Texts 13 (Heidelberg, 1981), pp. 74–6. 107 Spencer (1993), pp. 188–9, 199; Fletcher, Preaching and Politics, pp. 241, 263 n. 46. 108 Spencer, English Preaching, p. 199. 109 Caiger-Smith, English Medieval Mural Painting, p. 21. 110 Siegfried Wenzel, Preachers, Poets and Early English Lyrics (Princeton, 1986), p. 73.

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and Passion, the themes which predominate depictions of Christ’s life in mural cycles and in other media.111 The primacy of Christ’s Passion in surviving sermon texts also reﬂects the stress placed on preaching during Lent and Easter, with many sermons for these seasons being preserved in isolation.112 A similar singleness of voice is evident in the prominence in murals and preaching of saints, such as Thomas of Canterbury, memento mori images, and warnings about Sabbath observance.113 However, no surviving set of wall paintings covers the whole of the pastoral syllabus set out in Ignorencia Sacerdotum. Only the Last Judgement, Seven Deadly Sins and Seven Corporal Works of Mercy are frequently depicted in murals, while elements such as the Seven Sacraments seems to have been more commonly represented in other visual media.114 It may be that preachers preferred to teach elements, such as the Lord’s Prayer, as rhyming texts.115 Alternatively, some may have followed the tradition of relating the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer to the Seven Deadly Sins, transforming the catechetical image most commonly depicted in wall painting into an aid to prayer.116 In churches where both the Seven Deadly Sins and Seven Corporal Works of Mercy are depicted, the majority of schemes (eleven of the ﬁfteen scenes which are on either the north or south walls) are shown on the north side of the church.117 This was the side of the church frequently, although not exclusively, associated with the pulpit, which became a common ﬁxture in the fourteenth and ﬁfteenth centuries.118 These subjects may have been positioned for use as illustrations in the regular preaching of the pastoralia.

111 112

Goering, ‘‘The Summa Qui bene presunt,’’ p. 148. O’Mara, Selected Middle English Sermons, p. 13; Wenzel, Macaronic Sermons, pp.

66-7. 113 Owst, Literature and the Pulpit, p. 113; Fletcher, Preaching and Politics, p. 179; O’Mara, Selected Middle English Sermons, p. 112, n. 38. 114 Nichols, Seeable Signs. 115 Wenzel, Preachers and Poets, p. 81. 116 Mary Derisee Anderson, Drama and Imagery in English Medieval Churches (Cambridge, 1963), p. 63. 117 For these ﬁndings please consult the site of the Seed Corn Project, conducted in the History of Art Department of the University of Leicester, directed by Dr Phillip Lindley, researched by Miriam Gill: http://www.le.ac.uk/ha/seedcorn/ﬁndings.html 118 Spencer, English Preaching, p. 64.

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General Associations: Viewing Strategies

As we have seen, preachers did not limit themselves to expounding the literal signiﬁcance of Christian iconography, but often used images from monumental art as the basis of allegory. It may thus be that the allegorical method used in many sermons supplied a general model for viewing and using art.119 Later medieval sermons are full of analogies, ranging from simple comparisons to sustained allegories of complex schema such as castles where every element of a familiar object is assigned a theological signiﬁcance.120 For example, a sermon preached on the Anniversary of the death of Thomas Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick (†1401) contains an allegory of a ‘‘turim pompe et superbie.’’121 Like exempla, such similitudes were praised for their power to communicate.122 They did not rest on an invariable code of one-to-one equivalence, but the understanding that the meaning of a verbal or visual image depended on its context. For example, the author of Speculum Sacerdotale explains the devil can be compared either to a lion or a dragon.123 One of the most obvious instances of such an approach is the frequent interpretation of the Cruciﬁed Christ as a remedy for each of the Seven Deadly Sins.124 Preaching could also encourage congregations to interpret one image in relationship to one another. Mirk implicitly presents the juxtaposition between the Cruciﬁxion, shown on the rood beam and the Doom usually painted above as an expression of the contrast between the present oﬀer of divine mercy and the impending threat of divine judgement in his justiﬁcation of the orientation of churches.125 Preachers such as Mirk also drew on the more general

119

Ross, Grief of God, pp. 55, 150. D’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars, pp. 225–7. 121 Patrick J. Horner, ‘‘A Sermon on the Anniversary of the Death of Thomas Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick,’’Traditio 34 (1978), 381–401 at 391: ‘‘tower of pomp and pride.’’ 122 D’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars, p. 230. 123 Weatherly, Speculum Sacerdotale, p. 143. 124 Wilson, A Descriptive Index, pp. 49–51. 125 This combination is also depicted in the drawing of the upper storey of the Chantry Chapel of Abbot Islip [plate 4]. Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, p. 279: Also ye schull thenke how þat Crist deyd yn þe est on þe crosse; wherfor ye schull pray deuotly to hym þat he yeue you grace...Also þenke þat Cryst schall com out of þe est to þe dome; whefor ye schull pray to hym to yeue you such contrisyon of hert for your mys-dedys. See also ibid., p. 252. 120

       177

allegorical interpretations of church ﬁttings and ceremonies presented in works such as the Rationale of Durandus of Mende (†1291) or the twelfth-century author John Beleth.126 Just as an extempore reference to an image leaves no mark on the historical record, so the iconography of a painting can provide no evidence for the variety of ways in which a congregation familiar with the allegorising approach used in contemporary sermons may have used and interpreted it. General Associations: Sermon Form in Wall Paintings If sermons had the potential to teach a range of ways of interpreting art, did wall paintings, ever seek to replicate the form of sermons?127 A unique mural cycle at Friskney in Lincolnshire (c1400–10) teaching the doctrine of Transubstantiation oﬀers the closest analogy for a didactic text, such as a sermon. The cycle may have been intended to elucidate the signiﬁcance of the masses performed in the church, or possibly, to counter local Lollardy.128 However, this second proposition is hard to conﬁrm, for antiLollard Transubstantiation polemic, like the debate about images discussed above, tended to recycle established eucharistic motifs. The scenes on the south arcade of the nave at Friskney show the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper and its Old Testament type, the gathering of the Manna accompanied by three exempla: St Gregory and the doubting woman, St Edward the Confessor’s vision of the Christ child in the host [plate 7] and an incident of ritual desecration of the host [plate 8].129 This combination of ‘‘historical’’ and typological scenes, and exempla in a single 126

Weatherly, Speculum Sacerdotale, pp. xxvii–xxx. For this question of form in a literary context, see Wenzel, ‘‘Medieval Sermons,’’ pp. 158–9. 128 These issues are addressed in, Cecilia Cutts, ‘‘The Croxton Play: An AntiLollard piece,’’ Modern Language Quarterly 5 (1944), 45–60 at 57–60; Ann Eljenholm Nichols, ‘‘The Croxton ‘Play of the Sacrament’. A re-reading,’’ Comparative Drama 22 (1988), 117–137 at 47–60. 129 The Life of Saint Edward King and Confessor by Blessed Aelred Abbot of Rievaulx, trans. Jerome Bertram (Guildford, 1990), pp. 71–4; Miri Rubin, ‘‘Desecration of the host: The birth of an accusation,’’ in Christianity and Judaism. Papers read at the 1991 Summer Meeting and the 1992 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society, ed. Diane Wood (Oxford, 1992), pp. 169–185. 127

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scheme is unusual for English wall painting, but resembles the range of material commonly preached on the feast of Corpus Christi.130 The murals at Friskney could be compared to Mirk’s sermon for Corpus Christi which describes the institution of the Eucharist at the Last Supper and then demonstrates the importance of the sacrament with ﬁve exempla, which include the story of the woman and St Gregory. 131 This story is one of doubt assuaged, in which the unbelieving woman sees blood coming from the consecrated wafer. The story of St Edward depicted at Friskney is one of the reward of faith. St Edward sees the Christ child as he kneels to adore the elevated host. Count Leofric counsels him to keep the vision secret until after his death. The ﬁnal painting shows three men, possibly intended to represent Jews, testing the doctrine of Transubstantiation by stabbing the consecrated host. Such exempla in which the consecrated host manifested its nature to unbelieving abusers showed the power and validity of the church’s doctrine and the dangers of unbelief.132 Like most of the compositions in the Festial, Mirk’s sermon for Corpus Christi Sunday is very diﬀerent from the complex ‘‘modern’’ form of sermon construction usually associated with the later Middle Ages.133 However, it seems that this linear structure in which a brief explanation was followed by numerous exempla was considered particularly suitable and safe for a lay audience.134 Interestingly, there is evidence that some contemporary congregations despised this sort of preaching and ﬁfteenth-century revisions of the Festial generally reduced the number of exempla and added more obviously scholarly material, presumably to meet higher congregational expectations.135 Such material, like the ‘‘modern’’ structure, was less easily paralleled in images. It may be no coincidence that mu-

130 M. Rubin, Corpus Christi (Cambridge, 1991) p. 131. Two of the scenes are misidentiﬁed. That which is referred to as the Marriage at Cana in fact shows the Last Supper, while the alleged scene of St Ethelred of Bardney shows St Edward the Confessor. 131 Powell, The Advent and Nativity Sermons, p. 21; Erbe, Mirk’s Festial, pp. 168–75. 132 This form of exempla is discussed in: Larry Scanlon, Narrative, Authority and Power. The Medieval Exemplum and the Chaucerian Tradition (Cambridge, 1994), p. 75. 133 Spencer, English Preaching, p. 231. 134 Fletcher, Preaching and Politics, p. 262. 135 Powell, Advent and Nativity Sermons, pp. 29, 31.

       179

rals of exempla survive predominantly from the later fourteenth and very early ﬁfteenth century. Conclusion The complex relationship between preaching and imagery in late medieval England cannot be conﬁned to the enumeration of the relatively small number of direct references to art in sermons. Rather, preachers allegorised religious images, enlivened their sermons with verbal echoes of visual representations and presented strategies for interpreting images or constellations of images. Murals deployed didactic images derived from sermon exempla to address important concerns. They shared the catechetical and Christological emphasises of sermons, and may even have presented the visual equivalent of sermon form. They were not mere ‘‘sermon illustrations.’’ This exploration of their interrelationship is not intended to suggest the primacy of either word or image. As Bishop Pecock acknowledged, both words and images had their intrinsic advantages and could be combined to achieve the ‘‘hool proﬁte of remembring.’’136 It is the combination of evidence from medieval sermons and late medieval wall painting which helps us to understand how both contributed to, ‘‘the persuasion of many…to meritorious conduct.’’137 Select Bibliography Aston, Margaret, England’s Iconoclasts. Volume I. Laws Against Images (Oxford, 1988). Devlin, Mary Aquinas, The Sermons of Thomas Brinton, Bishop of Rochester (1372–1389), 2 vols., Camden Third Series 85–6 (London, 1954). Erbe, Theodore, ed., Mirk’s Festial. A Collection of Homilies, Early English Text Society Extra Series 96 (London, 1905). Fletcher, Alan J., Preaching and Politics in Late Medieval England (Dublin, 1988).

136 137

Pecock, Repressor, p. 212: ‘‘the complete proﬁt of remembering.’’ Krul, ‘‘Robert of Baseborn,’’ p. 120.

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Heﬀernan, Thomas J., ‘‘Sermon Literature,’’ in Middle English Verse. A Critical Guide to Major Authors and Genres, ed. Anthony S. G. Edwards (New Brunswick, New Jersey, 1984), pp. 177–208. Owst, Gerald R., Literature and the Pulpit in Medieval England (Cambridge, 1933). Spencer, Helen, L., English Preaching in the Later Middle Ages (Oxford, 1993). Tristram, Ernest W., English Wall Painting of the Fourteenth Century (London, 1955). Wenzel, Siegfried, Preachers, Poets and Early English Lyrics (Princeton, 1986). Wenzel, Siegfried, Fasciculus Morum. A Fourteenth-Century Preacher’s Handbook (London, 1989). Wilson, Edward, ed., A Descriptive Index of the English Lyrics in John of Grimestone’s Preaching Book, Medium Aevum Monographs New Series 2 (Oxford, 1973).

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE PREACHER SAINT IN LATE MEDIEVAL ITALIAN ART Roberto Rusconi (University of L’Aquila, Italy)

1. The Canonization of Preachers In ﬁfteenth-century Italy, the proclamation of sanctity by a papacy that had returned to Rome after the conclusion of the Great Schism expressed the consolidation of papal power, in spite of the inescapable events of the conciliar crisis in the ﬁrst half of the century. During this period, papal recognition of the sanctity of those famous for their preaching resulted in those saints’ iconographic symbols making reference to the subjects of their sermons. During the celebration of the Jubilee of 1450, Pope Nicholas  solemnly canonized the Observant Franciscan Bernardino da Siena, linking his sanctity with his wandering preaching activity, which he had conducted throughout north-central Italy until his death in L’Aquila, 20 May 1444. Bernardino was portrayed with his index ﬁnger raised, pointing to the symbol of the radiant sun, inside which was written the letters ‘‘IHS’’, a reference to his preaching promoting devotion to the Holy Name of Jesus. [plate 1] A few years later, Vincent Ferrer, a Dominican, was canonized. Born in Valencia in the kingdom of Aragon, Ferrer was an itinerant preacher who traveled over a large part of western Europe until his death in Vannes, Brittany, 5 April 1419. The Spanish pope Callixtus  proclaimed his sanctity in 1455. In his canonization letter, the pope emphasized that Ferrer had prophesied in his sermons the imminent end of time. Ferrer, as well, was represented with his right index ﬁnger raised, pointing to an image of Christ as Judge. The subject of his preaching thus became his iconographic attribute. [plate 2] A few years before, in 1446, Pope Eugenius  had proclaimed

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the sanctity of Nicholas of Tolentino (†1305), a friar of the order of the Hermits of St Augustine. His iconography had been mainly developed in the frescos of his home city dating from the ﬁrst decades of the fourteenth century. During the ﬁfteenth century, however, artistic representations of the friars’ preaching primarily emphasized Augustine, bishop of Hippo, who was regarded as the founder of their order. The Carmelites too had the veneration of one of their friars–the blessed Albert of Trapani – recognized between 1457 and 1476. Nevertheless, even in their devotional iconography of the prophet Elijah, who was regarded as the founder of their order, there were almost no references to Carmelite preaching in ﬁfteenth-century Italian art. 2. Saint Augustine and the Sermon of Saint Ambrose In the mid-ﬁfteenth century, the Augustinian Friars decorated some of their churches with fresco cycles portraying stories of Augustine of Hippo. These iconographical depictions were also widely diffused in manuscripts which contained Augustine’s legenda. Even the new saint of the order, Nicholas of Tolentino, did not surpass Augustine’s iconographic superiority. The representation of the scene in which the young Augustine went to hear bishop Ambrose of Milan preach was inspired by Augustine’s hagiography. This episode is taken up repeatedly, beginning with the marble tomb of 1362 by followers of Giovanni di Balduccio in the church of St Peter in Cielo d’oro in Pavia.1 It is found both in manuscript decoration, as for example in the miniature by Bartolommeo Rustichi in a translation of City of God (1433),2 and in painting throughout the ﬁfteenth century, up to the predella of Ambrogio da Fossano, who was also known as Bergognone.3

1 Jeanne Courcelle and Pierre Courcelle, Iconographie de saint Augustin, I: Les cycles du e siècle (Paris, 1965), pp. 64–65, plate . 2 Jeanne Courcelle and Pierre Courcelle, Iconographie de saint Augustin, : Les cycles du e siècle (Paris, 1969), p. 79, plate . 3 Panel from about 1490 now in the Galleria Sabauda, Torino (formerly in the Carthusian church of St Ambrose in Pavia): George Kaftal and Fabio Bisogni, Iconogra-

        183 In the depictions of Augustine’s legenda painted by the local artist Ottaviano Nelli, between 1420 and 1430 in the church of St Augustine in Gubbio, Ambrose’s sermon is portrayed on two diﬀerent panels. He speaks from a pulpit inside a church, in the presence of Augustine and Alypius. Noticeably in the foreground a cleric holds Ambrose’s episcopal staﬀ to emphasize the function of the bishop. The next panel shows the exchange between Augustine and Ambrose. In another panel, Augustine is portrayed as a friar giving his rule to the other friars.4 Some decades later, between 1464 and 1465, the Florentine painter Benozzo Gozzoli frescoed the choir of the church of St Augustine in San Gimignano with scenes of Augustine’s life. In a cycle of particular breadth and iconographic richness, it is interesting to note that before his conversion to Christianity, Augustine is represented in teaching garb, while afterwards he wears the religious habit of the friars. Gozzoli illustrates the various events at Milan in a single panel. In one part, a haloed Ambrose preaches from the pulpit to a group of listeners including Augustine, while on the opposite side, Augustine debates with Ambrose who is seated on his cathedra.5 [plate 3] The portrayal of Augustine in the garb of a Church Father was common in north-central Europe, as were pictorial cycles containing the scene in which he listened to Ambrose’s sermon. In contrast, the image of Augustine preaching is very common in illustrated manuscripts linked to the friars. His teaching function is emphasized even more in images destined for wide circulation. Augustine preaches in the polyptych of the Master of the legenda of St Augustine, from the 1520s; here, he is ﬁrst represented in the

phy of the Saints in the Painting of North West Italy, (Florence, 1985), no. 17, scene 24, ﬁgure 57, col. 47. 4 The two scenes, from the sides of the choir windows, are reproduced in Sharon Dale, ‘‘I veri ﬁgli di Agostino e gli aﬀreschi della chiesa di Sant’Agostino a Gubbio,’’ in Arte e spiritualità negli ordini mendicanti. Gli Agostiniani e il Cappellone di San Nicola a Tolentino, ed. Centro Studi ‘‘Agostino Trapè’’ (Rome, 1992), p. 162, ﬁgures 7–8 (with the giving of the rule on p. 163, ﬁgure 12). 5 Diane Cole Ahl, Benozzo Gozzoli (New Haven, 1996), ch. 4. See p. 137, ﬁgure 164, for the color reproduction of the scene. The preparatory drawing of the sermon, whose iconography is much more traditional, is reproduced on p. 136, ﬁgure 162.

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clothing of a canon, and then as a bishop.6 On the back of the frontispiece of his Latin sermons, printed in Basel by Johann Amerbach in 1494–5, he is portrayed as a teacher in the center of a church, surrounded by clergy and dressed as a bishop, while a vast crowd of the faithful listens to him in the foreground.7 [plate 4] 3. An order of itinerant preachers: The Observant Franciscans With the canonization of Bernardino da Siena in 1450, the papacy oﬃcially recognized the holy character of ﬁfteenth-century Franciscan preaching. This also had repercussions for the other wandering preachers within the Observant movement, and for their representation in religious art during the second half of the century. The iconographic symbols of each friar’s sanctity, which served to promote their veneration, indicated the chief devotion that each propounded in his sermons. John of Capestrano had the banner of the anti-Turkish crusade of 1456; James of the Marches had the reliquary with the blood of Christ; Michael Carcano of Milan had Christ in Judgment; and Bernardino of Feltre had the Monte di Pietà. [plate 5] This reference to the actual activity of preaching transformed representation in iconography during the ﬁfteenth century, compared to the models of Francis of Assisi and Anthony of Padua available in the preceding two centuries. The representation of Francis’s sermons was strongly conditioned, on the one hand, by the iconographic prototypes of the cycle attributed to Giotto, frescoed at the turn of the thirteenth century in the upper church of the basilica of St Francis at Assisi, and on the other hand, by the Legenda Maior of St Bonaventure, which the 1263 General Chapter certiﬁed as the oﬃcial vita of Francis. However, the story of Francis’s sermon to the birds dates back to the ﬁrst vita compiled by Thomas of Celano immediately after Francis’s canonization in 1228, as does his miraculous appearance to the Franciscan chapter at Arles during a sermon by Anthony.

6 Max J. Friedländer, Early Netherlandish Painting. Hans Memlinc and Gerard David, Volume 6, part 2, comments and notes by Nicole Veronee-Verhaegen (Leiden, 1971), pp. 124–25, plate 240. 7 Albert Schramm, Der Bilderschmuck der Frühdrucke, Volume 21 (Leipzig, 1938) (Reprint: Stuttgart, 1984), plate 116, image 647.

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When iconography came from other hagiographic sources, innovations could result due to the opportunity to portray new episodes, as for example Francis’s sermon on the indulgence at the Porziuncola by Tiberio of Assisi. [plate 6] Occasionally, the sermon to the birds, which is distinctive to Francis’s iconography, is depicted in innovative ways. In the frescoes of Bienno, in Valcamonica (1490), many other animals come as well to listen to Francis.8 Anthony of Padua’s legendae, which became more widespread during the fourteenth century, constituted a hagiographic patrimony on which iconography drew. The miracles surrounding his preaching are a persistent iconographic element, for example, the discovery of the dead miser’s heart in his coﬀer.9 Another miracle, his sermon to the ﬁshes, was an obvious imitation of Francis’s sermon to the birds, and was included at the beginning of The Life and Miracles of the Glorious Confessor Saint Anthony of Padua published in Venice in 1493.10 [plate 7] The diﬀusion of the traditional iconography of Anthony’s sermons is particularly aided, in the late ﬁfteenth century, by engravings. A Florentine illustrated print of 1460–7011 shows the miracles performed by the saint in the two side registers, surrounding a preaching scene from the pulpit at the top, and an apotropaic sentence at the bottom. The central image shows the saint seated in a walnut tree. In ﬁfteenth-century Venetian art, the latter scene epitomized the ﬁgure of the hermit and of the teaching friar.12 Just as Bernardino da Siena’s vernacular preaching was tran-

8 Image reproduced in Gabriella Ferri Piccaluga, ‘‘Economia, devozione e politica: immagini di francescani, amadeiti ed ebrei nel secolo ,’’ in Il Francescanesimo in Lombardia. Storia e arte (Milan, 1983), p. 108, ﬁgure 24. 9 See especially George Kaftal, Iconography of the Saints in Central and South Italian Schools of Painting, (Florence, 1965), no. 32, scene 2, ﬁgure 118, col. 107 (Deruta, St Francis, late ﬁfteenth-century fresco by an Umbrian school). 10 Victor Masséna prince d’Essling, Les livres à ﬁgures vénitiens de la ﬁn du e siècle et du commencement du e, Première partie, tome  (Florence, 1908), no. 734, pp. 195–96, ﬁgure is on p. 196. 11 See Arthur M. Hind, Early Italian Engraving. A Critical Catalogue with Complete Reproduction of All the Prints Described, Part : Florentine Engravings and Anonymous Prints of Other Schools (London, 1938), , p. 52 [A.I.69], plate 65. 12 See the painting of Lazzaro Bastiani, in George Kaftal and Fabio Bisogni, Iconography of the Saints in the Painting of North East Italy, (Florence, 1978), no. 21, ﬁgure 94, col. 74 (now in Venice, Gallerie dell’Accademia). But see especially the fresco of Bonifacio de’ Pitati of Verona in the Santuario del Noce at Camposampiero in S. Antonio 1231–1981. Il suo tempo, il suo culto e la sua città (Padua, 1981), p. 15.

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scribed by his listeners as it was occurring, so it was visually represented already by 1445, one year after his death in L’Aquila and before his canonization at mid-century. The Sienese company of the Virgin commissioned the painter Sano di Pietro to portray Bernardino, with a close adherence to the actual circumstances of his preaching. While Bernardino speaks in the piazza in front of the church of St Francis, he displays the cruciﬁx to the faithful who are kneeling around the pulpit. During his sermon in the Piazza del Campo, he blesses them from the pulpit with the tablet of the Holy Name of Jesus.13 In addition, two very detailed drawings, part of a collection of sketches by the Venetian painter Jacopo Bellini, date from before Bernardino’s canonization and are further contemporary testimony of his preaching in the piazza.14 [plate 8] Apart from religious prints, Bernardino also appears in some satirical wood-engravings that illustrate a narrative work, the Novellino of Masuccio Salernitano (Tommaso Guardati) in the edition published in Venice by Giovanni and Gregorio de’ Gregori on 21 July 1492.15 The papacy recognized Bernardino’s sanctity based on his preaching, and thus preaching scenes are a recurring element of his devotional iconography. They appear in the various illustrated cycles, starting from the polyptych illustrating the two sermons in the Sienese piazza. The commissioners and their painter have, through the polyptych and the copies derived from it, conserved the memory of these sermons. Similarly, the iconography of the Oratory of St Bernardino in Perugia commemorates another of Bernardino’s sermons. At the center of the Oratory’s facade, the sculptor Agostino di Duccio in 1461 depicted him preaching; in front of his pulpit is a pyre upon which the weapons of the civic factions burn. His preaching on this occasion remained a vivid memory in the political imagination and in the pages of chronicles. These themes were taken up again in a series of paintings placed in the Oratory’s inte-

13 See especially Michael Mallory and Gaudenz Freuler, ‘‘Sano di Pietro’s Bernardino altar-piece for the Compagnia della Vergine in Siena,’’ The Burlington Magazine 133 (1991), 186–92, at no. 1056. 14 See Colin Eisler, The Genius of Jacopo Bellini. The Complete Paintings and Drawings (New York, 1989), p. 384, plate 242 and p. 385, plate 243. 15 See Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘La predicazione fra propaganda e satira alla ﬁne del medioevo,’’ in Cristianesimo nella storia. Saggi in onore di Giuseppe Alberigo, ed. Alberto Melloni et al. (Bologna, 1996), particularly pp. 557–59 and ﬁgure 17.

PLATES 1–14*

* Plates 1–14 belong tot the article The Preacher Saint in Late Medieval Italian Art by Roberto Rusconi.

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1. Master of St John of Capestrano. St Bernardino da Siena. Rome, Church of St Bernardino. With permission of the Ministero per i Beni e le Attività Culturali – Istituto Centrale per il Catalogo e la Documentazione – Roma.

2. Bartolomeo degli Erri. St Vincent Ferrer. Modena, Seminario Metropolitano (formerly Modena, Church of St Dominic). © Seminario Metropolitano di Modena.

3. Benozzo Gozzoli. The sermon of St Ambrose and the dispute with St Augustine. S Gimignano, choir of the Church of St Augustine. With permission of the Ministero per i Beni e le Attività Culturali – Soprintendenza per i Beni Artistici e Storici di Siena.

4. St Augustine. Sermones (back of the frontispiece). Basel, Johann Amerbach, 1494-95. Albert Schramm, Der Bilderschmuck der Frühdrucke, vol. xxi: Die Drucker in Basel, I Teil. Leipzig, K.W. Hiersemann, Stuttgart, 1938, Abb. 647. (reprint: Stuttgart, A. Hiersemann, 1984).

5. Ligurian school of the end of the 15th century. Bernardino of Feltre preaches from a pulpit. Genoa, Palazzo Bianco. © Archivio Fotograﬁco del Comune di Genova.

6. Tiberio of Assisi. St Francis promulgating the indulgence of the Porziuncola (1516). Assisi, Basilica of S. Maria degli Angeli. With permission of the Ministero per i Beni e le Attività Culturali – Soprintendenza per i Beni Ambientali Architettorici Artistici e Storici dell’Umbria – Perugia.

7. La vita e li miracoli del glorioso confessore sancto Antonio de Padoa. [Verona, Paul Friedenperger], 1493-1495. Facing frontispiece: The saint preaches to the ﬁshes near Ravenna. © Comune di Padova – Settore Musei e Biblioteche.

8. Jacopo Bellini. St Bernardino da Siena in the pulpit. London, British Museum Book, fol. 80v. © The British Museum.

9. Lorenzo di Pietro, called “Vecchietta” (predella): St Bernardino da Siena preaching. © Liverpool, Walker Art Gallery.

10. Gian Giacomo da Lodi (1477). Scenes from the life of St Bernardino da Siena (detail). Lodi (Milano), Church of St Francis: chapel of St Bernardino da Siena. With the permission of the Ministero per i Beni e le Attività Culturali – Soprintendenza per i Beni Artistici e Storici – Milano.

11. North Italian engraver (ca. 1470-1480). St Bernardino da Siena. Washington DC, National Gallery of Art. Rosenwald Collection, Photograph © 2001 Board of Trustees, National Gallery of Art, Washington.

12. Erri workshop. Polyptych of St Peter Martyr: the miracle of the crazed horse (detail). Parma, Pinacoteca Nazionale (formerly Modena, Church of St. Dominic). With permission of the Ministero per i Beni e le Attività Culturali – Soprintendenza per i Beni Artistici e Storici di Parma e Piacenza.

13. Erri workshop. Polyptych of St Thomas Aquinas: the saint preaching (detail). Washington DC, National Gallery of Art (formerly Modena, Church of St Dominic). Gift of Frieda Schiﬀ Warburg in memory of her husband, Felix M. Warburg, Photograph © 2001 Board of Trustees, National Gallery of Art, Washington.

14. Christ preaching to Mary Magdalene (woodcut from Giovan Pietro Ferraro, Tesauro spirituale. Milan, Guillaume Le Signerre, March 19, 1499). Caterina Santoro, Libri illustrati milanesi del Rinascimento, Milano, Istituto Nazionale di Studi sul Rinascimento, 1956.

        187

rior in 1473.16 In a predella by Neri di Bicci, Bernardino preaches on the site where he orders a fountain, the object of superstitious devotion, destroyed and replaced by a church dedicated to the Virgin.17 In a predella of Lorenzo di Pietro, who was also known as Vecchietta, Bernardino preaches to the Sienese company of disciplinati, or ﬂagellants, holding a cruciﬁx instead of his usual attribute.18 In another of his predellas, possibly from the convent church of St Francis in Siena, the scene of Bernardino’s sermon employs the iconographic conventions of a religious drama attended by the faithful public; the predella also conserves the detail of the curtain that, according to his explicit prescription, divided the men from the women in the crowd. [plate 9] A fresco cycle depicting the stories of Bernardino da Siena was executed in 1477 by Gian Giacomo of Lodi for the chapel dedicated to him in the church of St Francis in Lodi. It has a wideranging iconography, with explanatory captions in Latin below each panel. Bernardino’s preaching is recalled in a precise sequence, beginning with his display of the tablet painted with the Holy Name of Jesus to Pope Martin . In subsequent scenes, he is assaulted by the charge of heresy; he writes down his Latin sermons ‘‘for the use of preachers;’’ and Pope Celestine , who was canonized in 1313, encounters Bernardino on his way to L’Aquila, to conﬁrm the orthodoxy of his preaching. Finally, a star appears in the sky while Bernardino displays the tablet to the faithful crowded around the pulpit in a piazza in L’Aquila.19 [plate 10] Another important fresco cycle dates from around 1486 in a chapel dedicated to Bernardino in the Franciscan church of the Aracoeli, in Rome. Through the patronage of the Bufalini family of Città di Castello, the Umbrian painter Bernardino di Betto, who was better known as Pinturicchio, draws his inspiration from contemporary 16 Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘ ‘Predicò in piazza’: Politica e predicazione nell’Umbria del ‘400,’’ in Signorie in Umbria tra Medioevo e Rinascimento: l’esperienza dei Trinci (Perugia, 1989), especially pp. 121–31 and ﬁgures 1–13. 17 George Kaftal, Iconography of the Saints in Tuscan Painting (Florence, 1952), no. 53, scene 5, ﬁgure 213, col. 198; Mario Alberto Pavone and Vincenzo Pacelli, ‘‘Iconograﬁa,’’ in Enciclopedia bernardiniana,  (L’Aquila, 1981), ﬁgure 72. 18 Now in the Pinacoteca of Siena: Kaftal, Iconography of the Saints in Tuscan Painting, no. 53, scene 6, ﬁgure 215, col. 199. 19 See Laura Mattioli Rossi, ‘‘L’iconograﬁa di s. Bernardino da Siena in Lombardia dal  al  secolo,’’ in Il Francescanesimo in Lombardia, pp. 236–37 and ﬁgures 115–116 on pp. 234–35.

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events rather than from hagiography. The half-hidden scene of a pulpit, in front of which ﬂashes the ﬂames of a pyre, refers to the Observant preachers’ political role in Perugia and their eﬀorts toward paciﬁcation.20 Bernardino’s hagiographic symbol refers, remarkably, not to preaching, but to the veneration of the Holy Name of Jesus, for which he was accused of heresy. In the reportationes of his sermons, some writers reproduce the image of the tablet that he exhibited for the devotion of those listening in the piazzas; and many of these tablets were quickly venerated as his relics.21 But while the iconography often portrays the tablet in Bernardino’s hands, sometimes only the monogram of the Holy Name of Jesus is present, merely indicated by the preacher’s raised hand with pointing foreﬁnger.22 But even so, the miracle-working power of the preached word does appear repeatedly in Bernardino’s iconography. A simple scene, for example, in a tryptych predella painted by Francesco di Gentile of Fabriano, in the church of St Francis at Matelica in the Marches, makes the connection between miracle and the sermons quite evident.23 A reliquary owned by John of Capestrano, which contained a cloth soaked in Bernardino’s blood, was engraved on one side with the saint in the pulpit holding in one hand the symbol of the Holy Name of Jesus and with the other hand an open book; on the edge of the casket is written ‘‘In nomine S. Bernardini de Sena ordinis minorum,’’ to indicate that he used it for blessing his listeners, reﬂecting the saint’s holiness in the words of his sermons.24 In Germany, a ﬂysheet was circulating already by 1454, evidently the work of the Observants, whose aim was to spread the 20

14–16.

See Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Predicò in piazza,’’ especially pp. 131–35 and ﬁgures

21 See Pavone and Pacelli, ‘‘Iconograﬁa,’’ for the color reproductions on plates  and  (and ﬁgure 689), and the monogram depicted in the manuscripts of the sermons in ﬁgures 690–691. 22 A fundamental article on this subject is Daniel Arasse, ‘‘Iconographie et évolution spirituelle: la tablette de saint Bernardin de Sienne,’’ Revue d’histoire de la spiritualité 50 (1974), 433–56. 23 The entire polyptych is reproduced in Pavone and Pacelli, ‘‘Iconograﬁa,’’ ﬁgure 194. Kaftal, Iconography of the Saints in Central and South Italian Schools of Painting, no. 55, scene , , , ﬁgures 236–237, col. 215. 24 See Servus Gieben, ‘‘Il mondo di Giovanni da Capestrano: i temi iconograﬁci,’’ in S. Giovanni da Capestrano nella Chiesa e nella società del suo tempo, ed. Edith and Lajos Pásztor (L’Aquila, 1989), p. 298. The reliquary is now at the museum of the convent of S Giuliano near L’Aquila.

        189

veneration for the new saint.25 The message contained in a northItalian print from around 1470–80 is more complex. In this, ‘‘sanctus Bernardinus de Senis’’ holds a large circle with the symbol of the Holy Name of Jesus with his right hand, and with his left shows the open book of his Latin sermons, with the ﬁrst line of his sermon promoting devotion to it: ‘‘Pater manifestavi nomen tuum hominibus.’’ Three miters are situated over as many churches, denoting the bishoprics mentioned in the scroll (Siena, Ferrara, Urbino); these were the bishoprics Bernardino had refused in order to devote exclusive attention to his own ministry of itinerant preaching. [plate 11] This image strongly inﬂuenced Bernardino’s representations, which were spread widely throughout the German-speaking regions by Observant Franciscans coming from Italy. The image also occurs in the frontispiece of the ﬁrst edition of his Sermones. Because of the huge circulation of manuscripts of his Latin sermons in Italy, it was printed relatively late, in Basel between 1490 and 1495.26 On April 14 1482, Pope Sixtus  (1471–84), a Franciscan, canonized the Parisian theologian Bonaventure (†1274), who had served as the minister general of the order. But Bonaventure’s iconography did not ﬂourish signiﬁcantly, apart from his insertion with teaching symbols in polyptychs and other works, in spite of the prescription of the Franciscan General Chapter, held 20 June 1485 in Casale (Piedmont), ‘‘that those ministers who had not had painted the image of St Bonaventure do so as quickly as possible for the perpetual glory of the order.’’27

25 Wilhelm Ludwig Schreiber, Handbuch der Holz- und Metallschnitte des  Jahhunderts, Volume 5 (Leipzig, 1928), no. 2567, pp. 140–41 (reprint: Stuttgart, 1969). Reproduced in Arthur H. Hind, An Introduction to a History of Woodcut (London, 1935), 2 vol.: , p. 186, ﬁgure 82 (reprint: New York, 1963). 26 Wilhelm Ludwig Schreiber, Handbuch der Holz- und Metallschnitte des  Jahhunderts, Volume 10, part 1 (Leipzig, 1910) no. 3428 [Reprint: Stuttgart, 1969]; Schramm, Der Bilderschmuck, Volume 21, plate. 136, image 794. 27 …quod illi ministri qui non fecerunt depingi immaginem sancti Bonaventurae, faciant quam citius possunt ad Ordinis perpetuam gloriam. Quote taken from Salvatore Tosti, ‘‘Ordinationes Fratrum Minorum Conventualium generales et provinciales Marchiae saeculi ,’’ Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 16 (1923), p. 375, no. 25.

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4. The mirror of the Dominicans

After the third quarter of the ﬁfteenth century, the Erri workshop was engaged to paint four polyptychs for the church of St Dominic in Modena. The polyptychs depict the stories of Dominican saints: Dominic, Peter of Verona (also called Peter Martyr), Thomas Aquinas, and Vincent Ferrer. Their images present a ‘‘mirror’’ of the order, with recurring themes of the friars’ commitment to defending Catholic orthodoxy, their preaching against heretics, and their conversion of inﬁdels, Jews and Muslims. The numerous miracles portrayed in various episodes underscore the sacred character of their ministry. a. Saint Dominic The piece made by the Erri workshop with stories of St Dominic was placed on the high altar; unfortunately, only a single scene survives of this work commissioned by the friars in 1467. Early in the ﬁfteenth century, Dominic’s iconography was limited to episodes painted by Fra Angelico on the polyptych predellas for Dominican churches, in Fiesole around 1430 and in Cortona in 1430–35. In both works, Dominic’s ecclesiastical vocation is emphasized by the sequence of scenes. The dream of Pope Innocent , with the friar supporting St John Lateran in Rome, and nearby the apparition of saints Peter and Paul, are portrayed on one side of the Fiesole work. On the other side, Dominic’s mission against heretics is represented with the scenes of the disputation with heretics and of the miracle of the orthodox books that would not burn in the ﬂames. In Cortona, the meeting of St Dominic and St Francis (an episode not seen in fourteenth-century iconography) is next to the dream of Innocent , near the apparition of saints Peter and Paul, while the scene of the disputation and the miracle of the unburned books is placed at the center of the predella.28 These episodes derive from Dominican hagiography and had already been central to the order’s iconography, starting from the important model of the Tomb of St Dominic sculpted by Nicola 28 See Giorgio Bonsanti, Beato Angelico. Catalogo completo, (Florence, 1998), cat. 34, p. 128 (color photograph on p. 51), and cat. 50, p. 137. The paintings are conserved at the Louvre, Paris, and the Diocesan Museum in Cortona, respectively.

        191

Pisano in 1267 for the church in Bologna where his relics were placed. These same scenes are also found in the polyptych painted by Francesco Traini in 1344–45 for the Dominican convent in Pisa.29 The episode of the bonﬁre of heretical books was depicted in the apse chapel of the church of Saints Dominic and James in the Umbrian town of Bevagna in the ﬁrst half of the fourteenth century, painted by a local master.30 Likewise an anonymous master from the Bembo workshop in the second quarter of the ﬁfteenth century, who had frescoed the chapel of St Dominic in the church of St Filastrio in Tavernole sul Mella, in the province of Brescia, had painted the ordeal of the ﬁre at the center of the bottom register of the stories, immediately under the scene of the saint supporting the Lateran.31 Domenico Ghirlandaio’s apse frescos in the Dominican church of Santa Maria Novella in Florence, painted between 1486 and 1490, include the same episode that could be seen by the faithful in the nave, despite being obstructed by the choir (which was demolished in Vasari’s time due to Tridentine liturgical prescriptions regarding ecclesiastical space).32 A more direct connection between Dominic’s preaching to the faithful and the bonﬁre of books in the public piazza (here occurring during a sermon instead of a disputation with the heretics), is on a predella painted by Lorenzo Lotto in 1508 for the church of St Dominic in Recanati, which provides the background of the scene.33 Tied more to purely devotional needs was a Florentine ﬂyleaf, printed between 1460 and 1480, in which Dominic appears standing with a lily in his right hand and an open book in his left, sur29 Anita Fiderer Moskowitz, Nicola Pisano’s Arca di San Domenico and Its Legacy (University Park, 1994). For the polyptych, originally from the church of St Catherine in Pisa, and now in the Museo civico, see Millard Meiss, Francesco Traini, ed. and with an introduction by Hayden B.J. Maginnis (Washington, 1983). 30 Roberto Longhi, La pittura umbra della prima metà del Trecento (Florence, 1973), plates 87–88. 31 Kaftal and Bisogni, Iconography of the Saints in the Painting of North West Italy, no. 72, scene 3, ﬁgure 324, col. 237; for the color reproduction, see La pittura in Lombardia. Il Quattrocento (Milan, 1993), p. 214, ﬁgure 227. 32 Ronald G. Kecks, Domenico Ghirlandaio und die Malerei der Florentiner Renaissance (Munich, 2000), p. 318, catalogue no. 15, image 218. 33 Lorenzo Lotto a Recanati, ed. Mauro Lucco, (Venice, 1998) p. 20, catalog entry 2, proposes instead that it should be interpreted as a miracle of St Peter Martyr (based on a forthcoming article by Vito Punzi); the color reproduction is on p. 21.

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mounted by saints Peter and Paul, alluding to his apostolic duty of evangelizing, and by the words ‘‘Vade, predica, quia ad hoc electus es.’’34 b. Peter Martyr The iconography of Peter of Verona, the Martyr of the Inquisition, was more widespread. He was canonized by Pope Innocent  in 1253, only a year after his death. Several works by the Dominican painter Fra Angelico emphasize the role of preaching in his life. Fra Angelico painted a polyptych in 1428–29 for the high altar of the church of the Camaldolese nuns of Florence dedicated to Peter Martyr; the work brings together the two central episodes of his hagiography that the order wished to promote from the beginning.35 The scene of his sermon in the open air, where a cloud miraculously protects the faithful from the scorching sun, thus confounding the ‘‘bishop’’ of the heretics, is an episode drawn from the legenda of friar Tommaso Agni of Lentini. The painter Andrea di Bonaiuto had already reproduced this image on the entrance wall of the chapter hall in the convent of Santa Maria Novella (where he represented these stories extensively).36 In both paintings, Peter’s martyrdom for the faith is in a prominent position. In the Modenese polyptych produced by the Erri workshop in 1461–66, the saint’s miraculous actions predominate in an exuberant visual narrative. Peter’s miracle-working power is exercised even while preaching. In addition to the often-portrayed episode of the cloud is the miracle of the crazed horse that Peter prevents from harming the listeners of his sermon. [plate 12] Bernardo Daddi had already represented this by 1320 in a predella panel, and it was repeated in other predellas in the second half of the ﬁfteenth century.37 See Hind, Early Italian Engraving, , p. 54, no. 70 [A.I.70], plate 66. Bonsanti, Beato Angelico, catalog 28, p. 124 (color reproduction on p. 36). 36 See the reproduction of the entire wall in Eve Borsook, The Mural Painters of Tuscany from Cimabue to Andrea del Sarto, second edition (Oxford, 1980), ﬁgure 63. 37 See Daniele Benati, La bottega degli Erri e la pittura de Rinascimento a Modena (Modena, 1988), pp. 76–91 and 169–72 (catalog entry by Maria Cristina Chiusa): color reproductions on p. 86, ﬁgure 55 and p. 87, ﬁgure 57. For other examples see as follows: for Bernardo Daddi, see Kaftal, Iconography of the Saints in Tuscan Painting, no. 241, scene 3 (and reproduced in Richard Oﬀner, A Critical and Historical Corpus of Florentine Painting (New York, 1930), section , vol. 3, plate /2); for Dello Delli, active in the second and third quarters of the ﬁfteenth century, see Gli Uﬃzi. Catalogo generale (Flor34 35

        193 The center of Peter Martyr’s veneration is the Dominican church of St Eustorgio in Milan, where his body was moved to a marble tomb sculpted by Giovanni di Balduccio in 1340.The intent was to replicate there the tomb of Dominic, as the General Chapter had decided.38 The episode of the miraculous sermon is at the center of one of the sides, while on another is portrayed his martyrdom (the two panels, however, are not immediately visible to someone entering the church). Around 1462, in the chapel of the Portinari family in the same church, the patron was portrayed on a panel with the saint. The Milanese painter Vincenzo Foppa in turn frescoed the vaults of the chapel in 1468.39 The episode of the cloud appearing during the sermon is included among the subjects, and serves to emphasize the miraculous character of the friar’s preaching, here set in a public piazza in Milan. On the other side of the window on the southern wall, Peter Martyr is depicted unmasking a false Madonna with the help of the Eucharist. This miracle, like another vault fresco of Peter reattaching a severed foot, derives from the hagiographic collection of the Dominican friar Pietro Calo (†1348).40 Two sculptural reliefs were placed beside the central door of the church of Santa Anastasia in Verona around 1436. These emblematic scenes, of the miraculous sermon and the Martyr’s murder, were visible to the faithful as they entered the church or as they listened to sermons in the piazza.41

ence, 1979), p. 244 (P520); for an anonymous painter of the end of the ﬁfteenth century see Kaftal, Iconography of the Saints in Tuscan Painting, no. 241, scene 3, ﬁgure 934, col. 823–824. 38 See Franco Russoli, ‘‘La scultura: l’arca di S. Pietro Martire di Giovanni di Balduccio da Pisa,’’ in La Cappella Portinari in Sant’Eustorgio a Milano, ed. Renata Cipriani, Gian Alberto Dell’Acqua and Franco Russoli (Milan, 1963), pp. 31–54; the decision of the General Chapter held at London in 1335 is on p. 31: ‘‘in forma et materia similis per omnia sepulcro beati Dominici, patris nostri.’’ 39 See Vincenzo Foppa. La Cappella Portinari, ed. Laura Mattioli Rossi (Milan, 1999), with color reproductions of the two recently restored scenes on pp. 222–23. 40 See also the scenes from a polyptych by Antonio Vivarini, from between 1450 and 1460, in Rodolfo Pallucchini, ‘‘Giunte ai Vivarini,’’ Arte Veneta 21 (1967), 200–01, ﬁgure 252; Kaftal and Bisogni, Iconography of the Saints in the Painting of North East Italy, no. 236, scene 18, ﬁgure 1114, col. 847. 41 See Francesca Flores d’Arcais, ‘‘Per una lettura della scultura chiesastica a Verona tra Medioevo ed età moderna,’’ in Chiese e monasteri a Verona, ed. Giorgio Borelli (Verona, 1980), p. 558 with the reproduction on p. 551.

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c. Thomas Aquinas Even after his canonization, promoted by the Angevin dynasty and proclaimed by the Avignonese pope John  in 1323, Thomas Aquinas did not enjoy a particularly signiﬁcant devotion by the faithful. Iconographically, the prevailing image is the theologian who teaches from his professorial chair and who secures the triumph of Catholic orthodoxy by disputing with heretics, as for example in the painting of Lippo Memmi and others for the Dominican church of St Catherine in Pisa for Thomas’s canonization. Benozzo Gozzoli recalled this iconography in his work for the Duomo of Pisa around 1470,42 as did Filippino Lippi in 1488–93 for his frescoes of the Triumph of St Thomas in the Carafa chapel in the Dominican church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva in Rome.43 The Erri workshop painted a polyptych around 1480 for the church of St Dominic in Modena, and among its surviving scenes, the representation of Thomas is striking. He addresses an audience of the faithful outside, from a pulpit erected in the piazza.44 [plate 13] According to iconographic conventions of the time, women had their heads covered and crouched at the center of the scene, while men were seated on benches or standing up. The presence of a man with a turban on his head could allude to the conversion of the inﬁdels, a reference to Thomas’s Summa contra gentiles. In Andrea di Bonaiuto’s fresco, painted from 1366–68 in the chapter hall of the Florentine convent of Santa Maria Novella, Thomas, to disprove heretics and inﬁdels, turns the ﬁrst page of his own works – and the words are perfectly legible.45 But in the painting from Modena his book is supported above the audience by a bunch of little angels. Despite the writing not being legible, the allusion to the supernatural character of Thomas’s preached doctrine is clear.

42 Joseph Polzer, ‘‘The Triumph of Thomas Panel in Santa Caterina, Pisa: Meaning and Date,’’ Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institut in Florenz 37 (1993), 29–70, and Paola Guerrini, ‘‘Dentro il dipinto: Il Tommaso d’Aquino di Benozzo Gozzoli,’’ in Il ritratto e la memoria. Materiali 2, ed. Augusto Gentili, Philippe Morel and Claudia Cieri Via (Rome, 1994), pp. 113–33 (the latter conserved at the Louvre, Paris). 43 Gail L. Geiger, Filippino Lippi’s Carafa Chapel. Renaissance Art in Rome, Sixteenth century essays and studies 5 (Kirksville, Mo., 1986). 44 Benati, La bottega degli Erri, pp. 92–109; on p. 92, ﬁgure 65 is the color reproduction of the painting now in the National Gallery, Washington. 45 See the detail reproduced in color in Santa Maria Novella. La basilica, il convento, i chiostri monumentali, ed. Umberto Baldini (Florence, 1981), p. 110.

        195

d. Vincent Ferrer A large image of Vincent Ferrer stands out at the center of another polyptych painted by the Erri workshop. Painted for the church of St Dominic in Modena around 1480, the work depicts the saint surrounded by his stories. Immediately beneath the central image, and thus in a position of primary importance, is the scene of the sermon preached at Perpignan, Languedoc, in 1415, in the presence of the emperor Sigismund, the king of Aragon Ferdinand , and the Avignonese pope Benedict .46 Another preaching scene refers to his hagiography, and to Peter Martyr’s iconography as well; in Murcia, at the boundary between the kingdom of Aragon and the emirate of Granada (though placed in a clearly Modenese piazza), the saint’s words stop three crazed, diabolical horses from trampling the crowd.47 A polyptych with the stories of Vincent Ferrer was painted around 1472 in the same region of the Po Valley. Francesco del Cossa and his workshop produced it for the chapel of the Griﬀoni family in the basilica of St Petronio in Bologna. In the predella attributed to Ercole de Roberti, the narrative sequence emphasizes the miraculous character of the saint’s actions; the standing ﬁgure recalls the coming of Christ the Judge at the end of time. Vincent Ferrer appears in these stories as a miracle worker, even though the anti-Jewish signiﬁcance of some episodes derived from his hagiography would not have passed unnoticed by those viewing the painting.48 Vincent Ferrer’s cult had remarkable success in Italy well before the process of canonization had begun. He was already represented as a preacher in his pulpit in a small rural church in Macello, near 46 Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Vicent Ferrer e Pedro de Luna: sull’iconograﬁa di un predicatore fra due obbedienze,’’ in Conciliarismo, stati nazionali, inizi dell’Umanesimo (Atti del  Convegno storico internazionale. Todi, 9–12 ottobre 1988), (Spoleto, 1990), especially pp. 228–29, and ﬁgure 11. 47 Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Le pouvoir de la parole. Représentation des prédicateurs dans l’art de la Renaissance en Italie,’’ in La parole du prédicateur. e-e siècle, ed. Rosa Maria Dessì and Michel Lauwers (Nice, 1997), especially pp. 452–53 and ﬁgure 11. 48 See the entire predella reproduced in color in Monica Molteni, Ercole de’ Roberti (Milan, 1995), pp. 116–17. For a color reproduction of the central ﬁgure see Andrea Bacchi, Francesco del Cossa (Soncino, 1991), at p. 80 (and for the anti-Jewish signiﬁcance, see Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Anti-Jewish Preaching in the Fifteenth Century and Images of Preachers in the Italian Renaissance Art,’’ in The Friars and the Jews in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, ed. Steven McMichael and Larry Simon (Leiden, forthcoming).

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Pinerolo in Piedmont, around 1429.The iconography of the frescos there, by Aymo Dux, refers to one of his texts, the epistola de ﬁne mundi sent in 1412 to Pope Benedict .49 After his canonization, however, commissioners and painters referred instead to the hagiographic legenda compiled by a Dominican friar from Palermo, Pietro Ranzano. This work inspired two other polyptychs: one painted around 1460 by Colantonio, commissioned by the ruling house of Aragon for the church of St Peter Martyr in Naples,50 and the other by a local master at the end of the ﬁfteenth century for the church of St Dominic in Castelvetrano, Sicily.51 In both, Vincent Ferrer is represented, in several panels, while preaching in the open air to a crowd, among whom a number of people wearing eastern clothing stand out, an obvious allusion to the Muslims of the Iberian peninsula and to the Jews in Italy. The portrayal of Vincent Ferrer in the polyptych painted by Giovanni Bellini and his workshop in the last decade of the ﬁfteenth century, for the church of St John and St Paul in Venice, is diﬀerent. At the center of the predella by Lauro Padovano, crippled people at the foot of the pulpit seek healing through the preacher’s powerful words.This representation emphasizes the saint’s miracleworking power, as is suggested by the ﬂame that the central ﬁgure seems to hold with his right hand.52 When the volumes of his sermons were issued in Venice between 25 July and 12 November 1496, the image on the frontispiece was a Dominican friar whose right hand pointed to Christ the Judge.53 This iconography is similar to that of a ﬂysheet printed in Milan around 1480, which shows Vincent Ferrer holding with his left hand an open book, on which one can read the passage from Revelation 14:7: ‘‘Timete Deum et date illi honorem, quia, venit hora (indicii eius).’’54 49

Rusconi, ‘‘Vicent Ferrer e Pedro de Luna,’’ especially pp. 215–20 and ﬁgures

1-4. 50 Kaftal, Iconography of the Saints in Central and South Italian Schools of Painting, no. 408: for the sermons, scene 2, ﬁgure 1319. 51 Kaftal, Iconography of the Saints in Central and South Italian Schools of Painting, no. 408: for the sermons, scene 2 and scene 3, ﬁgure 1318. 52 Rusconi, ‘‘Le pouvoir de la parole,’’ especially p. 453 and ﬁgures 12–13. For the color reproduction, see Anchise Tempestini, Giovanni Bellini (Milan, 2000), pp. 46 and 48. 53 Victor Masséna prince d’Essling, Les livres à ﬁgures Vénitiens, no. 906, pp. 298–299 and ﬁgure on p. 298. 54 Hind, Early Italian Engraving, , p. 270, no. 65 [plate E..65].

        197

5. The preacher and the pulpit

In Milan, 19 March 1499, Guillaume Le Signerre printed a devotional work of seventy-four pages, entitled Tesauro spirituale cum le epistole et evangelii, historiate, which had been edited by a priest of Vigevano, Giovan Pietro Ferraro, and dedicated to the duke of Milan, Ludovico Maria Sforza. The book contained sixty-seven illustrated scenes from the life of Christ. In the episode of the conversion of Mary Magdalene, Christ himself is depicted at an openair wooden pulpit outside the walls of the city preaching to a group of listeners. On its side, a medallion shows St Peter. In the ﬁrst row, among the women, Mary Magdalene is conspicuously seated (this engraving actually originated in another illustrated work edited by Ferraro, the Spechio de anima, published by the same printer a year before, on March 24, 1498).55 [plate 14] In Italian art by the end of the ﬁfteenth century, a tight iconographic connection had been established between the practice of preaching and the pulpit where it occurred. The presence of the pulpit, from which the preacher spoke, emphasized the preacher’s pastoral activity. It was the foundation of the sanctity oﬃcially recognized by the supreme authority of the Church, and held up to the faithful for their devotion. Contemporary preaching, thus, gained a further sacred quality. The itinerant preachers active in Italy at that time, whose sanctity was solemnly proclaimed a few decades after their deaths, contributed to this trend, precisely through the close relationship between their lives and their representation in devotional iconography. References to the actual practices of the time were already present in late medieval and Renaissance Italian images of mendicant preaching. But during the ﬁfteenth century, the portrayal of preachers in art depicting saints, further supported by iconographic symbols epitomizing their sermons’ subject matter, achieved in the end the eﬀect of emphasizing the power of the word of the saintly preacher, that is, the preacher saint. 55 Caterina Santoro, Libri illustrati milanesi del Rinascimento (Milan, 1956), no. 53, pp. 77–79 and no. 60, pp. 81–82. See also Max Sander, Le livre à ﬁgures italien depuis 1467 jusqu’à 1530 (Milan, 1942) [Reprint: Nendeln (Liechtenstein), 1969], no. 2699, pp. 473–474, and no. 2700, p. 474. The dedicatory letter implies that it would involve a translation from a Spanish work by Ludovico Besalù: ‘‘in Hispania essendomi venuto a le mane uno libreto historiato’’.

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  Select and Annotated Bibliography

Only the essential references to the works, and, where possible, their color reproductions, are indicated in the notes, without entering into questions of attribution and dating. These notes on the representations of preachers in ﬁfteenth-century Italian art cannot be completely exhaustive. 1. General information on the preacher saints mentioned and their iconography can be found in their respective entries in the Bibliotheca Sanctorum (Rome, 1961–1970; 12 volumes) and in the Lexikon der christlichen Ikonographie (Rome, 1968–1976; 8 volumes). For iconography, see especially the volumes edited by George Kaftal (who collaborated with Fabio Bisogni for the last two volumes): Saints in Italian Art, : Iconography of the Saints in Tuscan Painting (Florence, 1952); : Iconography of the Saints in Central and South Italian Schools of Painting (Florence, 1965); : Iconography of the Saints in the Painting of North East Italy (Florence, 1978); , Iconography of the Saints in the Painting of North West Italy (Florence, 1985). On the general problems of the representation of preachers in ﬁfteenth-century Italian art, see Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Le pouvoir de la parole. Représentation des prédicateurs dans l’art de la Renaissance en Italie.’’ In La parole du prédicateur. e– siècle, ed. Rosa Maria Dessì and Michel Lauwers (Nice, 1997), pp. 445–56. For some speciﬁc questions see Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘ ‘Trasse la storia per farne la tavola’: immagini di predicatori degli ordini mendicanti nei secoli  e ,’’ in La predicazione dei frati dalla metà del ‘200 alla ﬁne del ‘300, Atti del  Convegno internazionale di studi francescani (Spoleto, 1995), pp. 405–50; Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘La predicazione fra propaganda e satira alla ﬁne del medio evo,’’ in Cristianesimo nella storia. Saggi in onore di Giuseppe Alberigo, ed. Alberto Melloni et al. (Bologna, 1996), pp. 539–61; Roberto Rusconi ‘‘Women’s Sermons at the End of the Middle Ages: Texts from the Blessed and Images of Saints,’’ in Women Preachers and Prophets through Two Millennia of Christianity, ed. Beverly Mayne Kienzle and Pamela J. Walker (Berkeley, 1998), pp. 173–95; Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Immagini di predicatori e scene di predicazione nell’arte italiana all’epoca di fra Girolamo da Ferrara,’’ in Girolamo Savonarola: Da Ferrara all’Europa, ed. Gigliola Fragnito and Mario Miegge (Florence, 2001) pp. 85–97; ; Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Anti-Jewish Preaching in the Fifteenth Century and Images of Preachers in the Italian Renaissance Art,’’ in The Friars and the Jews in the Middle Ages and Renaissance, ed. Steven McMichael and Larry Simon (Leiden, forthcoming).

        199 2. Fundamental works are the volumes of Jeanne Courcelle and Pierre Courcelle, Iconographie de saint Augustin,  : Les cycles du  e siècle (Paris, 1965); : Les cycles du  e siècle (Paris, 1969); : Les cycles du  e et du  e siècle (Paris, 1972) (see these for the best information on the representations of Augustine’s sermons, and Ambrose’s sermons to Augustine). More recently, see Joseph C. Schnaubelt and Frederick Van Fleteren, eds., Augustine in Iconography: History and Legend (New York, 1999). On the subject see especially Il Cappellone di San Nicola a Tolentino. Ed. Il Centro Studi ‘‘Agostino Trapè’’ (Milan, 1992); and Arte e spiritualità negli ordini mendicanti. Gli agostiniani e il Cappellone di San Nicola a Tolentino. Ed. Centro Studi ‘‘Agostino Trapè’’ (Rome, 1992). In Arte e spiritualità negli ordini mendicanti, see especially Dieter Blume and Dorothee Hansen, ‘‘Agostino «pater» e «praeceptor» di un nuovo ordine religioso (Considerazioni sulla propaganda illustrata degli eremiti agostiniani),’’ pp. 77–91; and Sharon Dale, ‘‘I veri ﬁgli di Agostino negli aﬀreschi della chiesa di Sant’Agostino a Gubbio,’’ pp. 151–64. See also Fabio Bisogni, ‘‘Il pubblico di san Nicola da Tolentino: Le voci e i volti,’’ in Il pubblico dei santi. Forme e livelli di ricezione dei messaggi agiograﬁci, ed. Paolo Golinelli (Rome, 2000), pp. 227–50. The subjects of St Augustine’s iconography are not derived from the vita of Possidio, but rather the Golden Legend of Jacopo da Varazze or the Liber Vitasfratrum of Jordan of Saxony, both Dominicans. 3. For Francis of Assisi, see Chiara Frugoni’s fundamental work, Francesco e l’invenzione delle stimmate. Una storia per parole e immagini ﬁno a Bonaventura e Giotto (Torino, 1993); see also Dieter Blume, Wandmalerei als Ordenspropaganda. Bildprogramme im Chorbereich franziskanischer Konvente Italiens bis zur Mitte des 14. Jahrhunderts (Worms, 1983); Klaus Krüger, Der frühe Bildkult des Franziskus in Italien. Gestalt- und Funktionswandel des Tafelbildes im 13. und 14. Jahrhundert (Berlin, 1992); William R. Cook, Images of St Francis of Assisi in painting, stone and glass from the earliest images to ca. 1320 in Italy. A Catalogue (Florence, 1999). For Anthony’s iconography, see the rich documentation in Beda Kleinschmidt, Antonius von Padua in Leben und Kunst, Kult und Volkstum (Düsseldorf, 1931). For an update, see the following articles from the second interdisciplinary conference  volti antichi e attuali del Santo di Padova which are published in Il Santo, , 19 (1979): Pietro Scarpellini, ‘‘Note sull’iconograﬁa antoniana nel San Francesco di Assisi,’’ 595–601; Giordana Mariani Canova, ‘‘Contributo alla iconograﬁa antoniana: antiche immagini miniate di S. Antonio,’’ 603–12; Lionello Puppi, ‘‘Tiziano e l’«epopea antoniana» della Scoletta del Santo. Nota sui signiﬁcati iconograﬁci e sulla committenza,’’ 613–35.

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For Bernardino of Siena see Mario Alberto Pavone and Vincenzo Pacelli, ‘‘Iconograﬁa,’’ in Enciclopedia bernardiniana,  (Aquila, 1981). For particular aspects of his and his followers’ preaching, see Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Predicò in piazza: politica e predicazione nell’Umbria del ‘400,’’ in Signorie in Umbria tra Medioevo e Rinascimento: L’esperienza dei Trinci (Foligno, 10–13 dicembre 1986. Perugia, 1989, pp. 113–41; Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Giovanni da Capestrano: Iconograﬁa di un predicatore nell’Europa del ‘400,’’ in Predicazione francescana e società veneta nel Quattrocento: Committenza, ascolto, ricezione. Atti del  convegno internazionale di studi francescani. Le Venezie francescane 6, 1989, 31–60 [reprinted by Centro Studi Antoniani (Padua, 1995), pp. 25–53]. For Bonaventure, there is the contribution by Francesco Pietrangeli Papini, Il Dottore Seraﬁco nella raﬃgurazione degli artisti (Grottaferrata, Rome, 1973). 4. For the Dominican polyptychs of Modena, see especially the comprehensive study of Daniele Benati, La bottega degli Erri e la pittura del Rinascimento a Modena (Modena, 1988). See also George Kaftal, St Dominic in early Tuscan painting (Oxford, 1948). On the iconography of St Peter of Verona, Daniel Russo has a work in progress. For Vincent Ferrer, see Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘Vicent Ferrer e Pedro de Luna: Sull’iconograﬁa di un predicatore fra due obbedienze,’’ in Conciliarimo, stati nazionali, inizi dell’Umanesimo.  Convegno del Centro di studi sulla spiritualità medievale (Spoleto, 1990), pp. 213–34 (and also in Modelli di lettura iconograﬁca. Il panorama meridionale, ed. Mario Alberto Pavone (Naples, 1999), pp. 49–68).

PART SIX

PREACHER AND AUDIENCE

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CHAPTER NINE

VERCELLI HOMILIES XI–XIII AND THE ANGLO-SAXON BENEDICTINE REFORM: TAILORED SOURCES AND IMPLIED AUDIENCES** Charles D. Wright (University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign)

An impressive number of vernacular homilies have survived from Anglo-Saxon England. In addition to those attributed to Ælfric and Wulfstan, there are well over a hundred anonymous Old English homilies,1 including such major manuscript collections as the Blickling and Vercelli homilies.2 Scholarship in the past century focused primarily on the basic work of editing the texts, sorting out their textual and manuscript interrelationships, determining their dates and dialects, uncovering their Latin sources, and analyzing their stylistic features. Less attention has been paid to the historical and cultural conditions of their production and reception, including the question of their implied, intended, and actual audiences.3 The

* Earlier versions of this paper were read at Cornell University (as the Robert E. Kaske Memorial Lecture) and at Leeds in 1994. I wish to thank Thomas N. Hall and Thomas D. Hill for valuable comments and references. 1 For Ælfric and Wulfstan, see below; the fundamental guide to the texts and manuscripts of the anonymous homilies is Donald G. Scragg, ‘‘The Corpus of Vernacular Homilies and Prose Saints’ Lives before Ælfric,’’ Anglo-Saxon England 8 (1979), 223–77. See also Janet Bately, Anonymous Old English Homilies: A Preliminary Bibliography of Source Studies (Binghamton, 1993); up-dated version available on-line at http://www.wmich.edu /medieval/rawl/bately1/index.html. 2 The Blickling Homilies of the Tenth Century, ed. Richard Morris, Early English Text Society [EETS] o.s. 58, 63, 73 (London, 1874–80; repr. with corrections, 1967); The Vercelli Homilies and Related Texts, ed. D. G. Scragg, EETS o.s. 300 (Oxford, 1992). Subsequent references to the Vercelli homilies will be to Scragg’s edition, by line numbers. Translations are my own unless otherwise noted. 3 On the various kinds of ‘‘audience,’’ see Paul Strohm, ‘‘Chaucer’s Audience(s): Fictional, Implied, Intended, Actual,’’ Chaucer Review 18:2 (1983), 137–45.The ‘‘implied audience’’ is deﬁned by Strohm as ‘‘a hypothetical construct, the sum of all the author’s assumptions about the person he or she is addressing’’ (140).

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most comprehensive eﬀorts to elucidate the likely settings and audiences of Old English homilies have been made by Milton McC. Gatch and Mary Clayton.4 Although they draw somewhat diﬀerent conclusions, both supplement the scanty internal evidence aﬀorded by the homilies themselves by drawing analogies with continental practice as reﬂected in Latin homiliaries from the Carolingian period. Gatch focuses primarily on the evidence for a liturgical setting for vernacular preaching, while Clayton draws attention to similarities between the contents and structures of the Blickling and Vercelli collections and Latin homiliaries whose purposes and audiences are sometimes better understood. These studies have sharpened our understanding of the various contexts for which vernacular homilies might have been composed, though they have not been able to specify with any certainty the audiences of the major anonymous collections. We are in a better position to assess the contexts and audiences of the homilies of Ælfric (c. 950–c. 1010) and Wulfstan (†1023), since we know a good deal about the careers of both men. Although the contexts of their homilies are not necessarily directly applicable to the anonymous collections, they do at least yield some insight into the range of possible contexts for vernacular preaching in Anglo-Saxon England during the later tenth and early eleventh centuries. In the case of Ælfric, we not only know that he was a monk and mass-priest at Cerne Abbas and later abbot of Eynsham, but we also have the prologues to his two series of Catholic Homilies outlining their intended purposes.5 Gatch suggested that Ælfric’s homilies may originally have been intended for a monastic audience, whether as part of the night Oﬃce or as lectio divina at meals, but that in the stage recorded in the primary manuscript they have been adapted for instruction of the laity in the Prone.6 Malcolm 4 Mary Clayton, ‘‘Homiliaries and Preaching in Anglo-Saxon England,’’ Peritia 4 (1985), 207–42. 5 Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies: The First Series. Text, ed. Peter Clemoes, EETS s.s. 17 (Oxford, 1997); Ælfric’s Catholic Homilies: The Second Series. Text, ed. Malcolm Godden, EETS s.s. 5 (London, 1979). For an older edition with translation, see The Homilies of the Anglo-Saxon Church, ed. and trans. Benjamin Thorpe, 2 vols. (London, 1844–46). 6 Preaching and Theology in Anglo-Saxon England: Ælfric and Wulfstan (Toronto, 1977), pp. 52–55. For criticism of Gatch’s theory of vernacular preaching in the Prone (a later term for a vernacular oﬃce separable from the Mass but often inserted after the Gospel) see Thomas Amos, ‘‘The Origin and Nature of the Carolingian Sermon,’’ diss. Michigan State University (1983), pp. 277–79.

        205 Godden and Mary Clayton stress that the Catholic Homilies were composed for the instruction of the unlearned laity, as Ælfric himself suggests in his prologue, although certain homilies in both series seem to have been designed speciﬁcally for monks or secular clergy, or for a mixed audience of monks or clergy and laity.7 Clayton concludes that Ælfric’s homilies would normally have been read in connection with the Mass, but that private devotional reading was also envisioned.8 Wulfstan, bishop of Worcester and archbishop of York, composed sermons in Latin and Old English.9 The twenty-two vernacular sermons that survive include eschatological and catechetical sermons addressed ad populum, as well as sermons on the duties of bishops addressed ad clerum. But the distinction between lay and clerical audiences is not always a hard and fast one; as Dorothy Bethurum notes, the catechetical homilies ad populum ‘‘may have served also as models for the diocesan priests.’’10 Bethurum speculates that one sermon, addressed to thanes both clerical and lay, ‘‘may have been composed for delivery at a meeting of the Witan, where Wulfstan is known to have preached, and then sent to the principal noblemen of the York and Worcester dioceses.’’11 Unfortunately, we are unable to identify any such precise historical contexts for most of the anonymous homilies. We are not even sure, for example, of the dates of many of these homilies relative to the Benedictine Reform of the second half of the tenth century, a question which has considerable implications for our understanding of the Reform’s literary and pastoral signiﬁcance.12 The straightforward and satisfying opposition between a pre-Reform ‘‘heterodox’’ tradition on the one hand, represented by the anonymous homilies with their sometimes obscure or apocryphal sources, and a postReform ‘‘orthodox’’ tradition on the other, represented by Ælfric 7 ‘‘The Development of Ælfric’s Second Series of Catholic Homilies,’’ English Studies 54 (1973), 209–16; Clayton, ‘‘Homiliaries and Preaching,’’ pp. 230–39. 8 For evidence from Bede for monastic preaching to an augmented audience at special occasions, see Alan Thacker, ‘‘Monks, Preaching and Pastoral Care in Early Anglo-Saxon England,’’ in Pastoral Care before the Parish, ed. John Blair and Richard Sharpe (Leicester, 1992), pp. 137–70, at 140–41. 9 The Homilies of Wulfstan, ed. Dorothy Bethurum (Oxford, 1957). 10 Bethurum, p. 299. 11 Bethurum, p. 339. 12 Scragg,The Vercelli Homilies, , allows for a range from the later ninth to the later tenth centuries for most of the Vercelli homilies.

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and Wulfstan with their impeccably orthodox (and usually identiﬁable) patristic sources, has been challenged by Mary Clayton.13 Again, we often cannot be sure whether a particular vernacular homily or collection was intended for devotional reading or for oral delivery in a liturgical setting, or even whether its intended audience was lay, clerical, or mixed – much less specify the precise nature of the congregation or community for which it was composed. None of the major manuscript collections can be said to represent a set composed by a single author, and only a very few smaller groupings can convincingly be assigned a common authorship.14 Even when a homily contains unambiguous internal evidence of its intended context and audience, therefore, the conclusions may only be narrowly applicable to other homilies by cautious analogy. In a recent investigation of the Blickling homilies, for example, Milton Gatch arrived at the dispiriting conclusion that their audience is ‘‘unknowable.’’15 Gatch does, at least, hold out the possibility that progress in source studies might help resolve the question of audience for some vernacular homilies. It is not to be supposed that source studies alone will enable us to arrive at deﬁnitive conclusions, especially since, as Gatch cautions, ‘‘it is not necessarily the case that authors will tailor their materials to the special needs and conditions of those who will read their writings or hear them read.’’16 But identiﬁcation of sources allows us, in eﬀect, to watch an author at work, to observe the choices that are made and to perceive patterns of omission, expansion, and alteration that may reveal something of the author’s purposes and intended audience. Referring to the Blickling homilies, Gatch concludes that ‘‘it will be necessary to learn as much as possible about the history of the texts – their ultimate Latin sources, their textual and palaeographical histories – before we can venture hypotheses concerning the intended uses of

13 The Cult of the Virgin Mary in Anglo-Saxon England, Cambridge Studies in AngloSaxon England 2 (Cambridge, 1990), pp. 260–65. 14 For the common authorship of Vercelli homilies –, see Donald G. Scragg, ‘‘An Old English Homilist of Archbishop Dunstan’s Day,’’ in Words, Texts and Manuscripts. Studies in Anglo-Saxon Culture presented to Helmut Gneuss, ed. Michael Korhammer, with Karl Reichl and Hans Sauer (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 181–92. 15 ‘‘The Unknowable Audience of the Blickling Homilies,’’ Anglo-Saxon England 18 (1989), 99–115. 16 ‘‘The Unknowable Audience,’’ p. 114; the quotation following is from p. 101.

        207 the book and the precise nature of its contents.’’ We have to accept that ‘‘as much as possible’’ will often remain ‘‘much less than we would like’’; yet even then it can still be useful to venture hypotheses when these are consistent with the evidence yielded by an integrated analysis of the manuscript evidence, of the contents of the homilies, and of their sources. I would like to test the potential value of the kind of integrated approach Gatch urges by focusing on a speciﬁc group of anonymous homilies, Vercelli , , and , supplementing codicological and internal evidence for their origins and intended uses by examining the way their sources have been adapted, including a new source for a brief passage on the fear of God in Vercelli homily . I will not claim to have recovered deﬁnitively their ‘‘unknowable’’ audience, but I will venture a hypothesis that I think is consistent with the available evidence. As I will argue, on balance the internal evidence points towards a clerical audience, while the homilist’s ‘‘tailoring’’ of Latin sources in an apparent attempt to reconcile fear of God and the spiritual life with material wealth and personal property suggests that the homilies were intended for secular clerics rather than for monks who lived the common life according to the Benedictine Rule. Indeed, a passage at the end of homily , which complains about the plundering of churches by kings, bishops, and powerful lords, may register the protest of a secular cleric against the state-sponsored expulsions and conﬁscations of the Benedictine Reform movement. The homilies in the Vercelli Book17 are not consistently rubricated or arranged for the liturgical year, and scholars have generally accepted Kenneth Sisam’s view that the manuscript is ‘‘essentially a reading book.’’18 Clayton thinks that many of the homilies were originally composed for a lay audience, but the homilies fall into several groups of apparently diverse origins, and may well have Vercelli, Biblioteca Capitolare  (s. x2); facsimile ed. by Celia Sisam, The Vercelli Book, Early English Manuscripts in Facsimile, 19 (Copenhagen, 1976). 18 Sisam, ‘‘Marginalia in the Vercelli Book,’’ in his Studies in the History of Old English Literature (Oxford, 1953), pp. 109–118, at 118. The Vercelli Book as a collection has been characterized as an ascetic ﬂorilegium intended for monastic readers. See Éamonn Ó Carragáin, ‘‘How Did the Vercelli Collector Interpret The Dream of the Rood?,’’ in Studies in English Language and Early Literature in Honour of Paul Christophersen, ed. P. M. Tilling, Occasional Papers in Linguistics and Language Teaching, 8 (Coleraine, 1981), pp. 63–104, at 66–67. Ó Carragáin now regards the collection as a canon’s book (see note 68 below). 17

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been composed for a variety of purposes and audiences. The group of homilies – share certain features of layout and presentation in the manuscript which suggest a common exemplar. As Donald Scragg points out, Homilies – are related by their similarly worded minuscule rubrics: Spel to forman, ðam oðrum and þriddan gangdæge. Each homily ends part way down a page and is followed without a break by new material. Each, too, has its opening words in capitals with the initial letter over two lines. Homily  seems to be related to them, as it is the only other homily in the codex with a rubric . . . [and a]gain the opening word of the homily is in square capitals with the initial letter over two lines. In all four homilies the opening word or letter of the homily is in red also, and a e n of amen at the end of homily  are shaded in red. No colouring appears anywhere else in the manuscript.19

Scragg identiﬁes these homilies as a distinct set, his Group B2c. Homilies – are most closely linked by rubrics assigning them to the three days of Rogationtide. That these three sermons at least were composed as a group is suggested from the allusion at the beginning of homily  to the previous day’s instruction concerning the institution of the Rogationtide observances, here uniquely attributed to St Peter rather than to Mamertus of Vienne, who is usually credited with instituting this three-day feast. Homily  begins by stating that it is now the third day of the Rogations, and both  (ll. 22–23) and  (ll. 7–8) cite Matthew 24.13, ‘‘whoever perseveres unto the end will be saved,’’ though in homily  this verse is blended with the closely parallel verse Matthew 10.22. There are other common themes linking  and , some of which I will discuss presently, and although the linguistic evidence is inconclusive, it seems reasonable to suppose that the three homilies were composed by the same author.20 Homily , on the other hand, which is rubricated to swylcere tide swa man wile (the Old English equivalent of quando uolueris), was probably composed by a different author, since his translation of a passage from Caesarius of Arles diﬀers from that in Vercelli , which uses part of the same 19 Scragg, ‘‘The Compilation of the Vercelli Book,’’ Anglo-Saxon England 2 (1973), 189–207, at 194; rep. with a new postscript in Anglo-Saxon Manuscripts: Basic Readings, ed. Mary Richards (New York, 1994), pp. 317–43, at 324. 20 Scragg, The Vercelli Homilies, –, suggests that these three homilies ‘‘were composed as a set,’’ but also cautions that ‘‘there is little clear evidence of linguistic aﬃnity between the three . . .’’

        209 passage.21 Homily  must have been added to the Rogationtide set in an earlier exemplar, whose layout features it therefore shares. Although Scragg cautions that ‘‘the possibility must remain that homilies ,  and  themselves were put together as a set in the way that homily  was added to them, rather than that they were composed by one man,’’22 I think the evidence for common authorship is very strong. This at least will be my working hypothesis, which I want to test further by comparing their treatment of their sources. But ﬁrst let us see what can be inferred about their setting and audience from other internal evidence. The temporal references at the beginning of homilies  and  suggest that they were originally intended, not for private devotional reading, but for oral delivery to a congregation. This is conﬁrmed by the homilist’s citation in homily  of Matthew 18.20, ‘‘Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I among them,’’ followed by the comment, ‘‘We then are now gathered. We believe in the Lord’s name. He is among us at present’’ (ll. 46–50). But what was the nature of the congregation? From their assignment to Rogationtide and their general parenetic contents, one’s initial impression might be that these homilies were composed for an unlearned lay audience. As Gatch has pointed out, it appears that Rogationtide ‘‘became in the late-Saxon church a conventional collecting-place for general catechetical and parenetic or hortatory sermons.’’23 Vercelli homilies –, none of which is tied to a gospel pericope, conform to this general pattern. Thus in Vercelli , after discussing the observances of the season, the homilist reﬂects on the tribulations of the present world, exhorting his audience to persevere in hope of a reward in the next life, urging them to cultivate good works and spiritual virtues, and warning them of death and the Judgement to follow. He carefully translates every Latin biblical verse he cites, and pauses to deﬁne ‘‘reliquias’’ as ‘‘the remains of holy men, of their hair or body or clothing’’ (ll. 29–30). On the other hand, there is nothing in any of these homilies that would be appropriate only to a lay audience, and in a series of Ro21 See Paul Szarmach, ‘‘Caesarius of Arles and the Vercelli Homilies,’’ Traditio 26 (1970), 315–23. 22 Scragg, The Vercelli Homilies, . 23 Preaching and Theology, p. 51; cf. idem, ‘‘The Medieval Church,’’ in A Faithful Church: Issues in the History of Catechesis, ed. John H. Westerhoﬀ  and O. C. Edwards, Jr. (Wilton, CN, 1981), pp. 93–99.

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gation sermons intended for the laity one might have expected an admonition to pay tithes, but this obligation is never mentioned.24 Moreover, the homilist does make a remark that seems better suited to clerics who have some pastoral obligations, telling his audience towards the conclusion of homily , ‘‘let us also teach other men when they come to us’’ (ll. 76–77). This is consistent with his emphasis on the teaching function of the ecclesiastical hierarchy in homily , where, following Caesarius of Arles, he alludes to the teachings transmitted by the church’s ‘‘spiritual lamps,’’ that is, the patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and bishops (sacerdotes) of all churches – the ﬁnal item of which the homilist elaborates as, ‘‘and bishops and mass-priests and other religious teachers and many of God’s churches’’ (ll. 10–17).25 It seems unlikely, also, that laypersons would themselves have carried the relics, Cross, and gospel books in the Rogationtide processions, as the homilist seems to expect his audience to do.26 None of this suﬃces to rule out a lay audience, or mixed audiences such as those for whom Ælfric apparently sometimes composed. The homilist’s reference to carrying their relics, Cross, and gospel books could be an inclusive general one to the entire community’s participation in the processions,27 rather than a speciﬁc charge to the clergy; and his admonition to ‘‘teach other men when they come to us’’ does not necessarily imply a formal or pastoral kind of instruction.28 Still, on the face of it the homilist’s character24 One version of the Canons of Edgar speciﬁes the Rogation days as one of three occasions when priests should remind the people to pay tithes: Councils & Synods with Other Documents Relating to the English Church, : A.D. 871–1204, Part : 871–1066, ed. and trans. Dorothy Whitelock et al. (Oxford, 1981), p. 331. 25 See Hildegard L. C. Tristram, ‘‘Die leohtfæt-metapher in den altenglischen anonymen Bittagspredigten,’’ Neuphilologische Mitteilungen 75 (1974), 229–49, at 244–45. 26 Homily , ll. 16–19. Presumably gospel books, relics, and the Cross would be carried by clergy with the laity following behind. The synod of Clovesho in 747, for example, bade ‘‘the whole people to pray humbly on bended knee for divine mercy for sins with the sign of Christ’s passion and of our eternal redemption and the relics of his saints carried before [coram portatis]’’ (canon 16, in Arthur W. Haddan and William Stubbs, ed., Councils and Ecclesiastical Documents Relating to Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 3 [Oxford, 1871], p. 368). 27 Compare Joyce Bazire and James E. Cross, Eleven Old English Rogationtide Homilies (Toronto, 1982), homily no. 8, at 112, ll. 110–14. 28 It is possible, however, that this injunction refers not to an obligation to instruct laypersons but to the role of minsters in training prospective clerics for pastoral duties. For this obligation, see Sarah Foot, ‘‘Parochial Ministry in Early Anglo-Saxon England: The Role of Monastic Communities,’’ in The Ministry: Clerical and Lay, ed. W. J. Sheils

        211 izations of his audience’s obligations seem better suited to a clerical community, for whom his sermons would of course also provide suitable matter to fulﬁll their charge to instruct the laity.29 Nor would the use of the vernacular be at all unusual in a sermon intended primarily for clergy. As Patrick Wormald has reminded us, in the early Middle Ages clerical literacy in Latin cannot be taken for granted.30 Ælfric himself complained about ‘‘unlearned priests’’ who thought themselves great teachers if they knew any Latin at all, and recalled that he had been taught by a mass-priest who had but small Latin.31 Ælfric also urged bishops to preach to their clergy in English.32 On balance, then, these homilies seem designed for a clerical community. Like some of Wulfstan’s homilies, they might also have served as preaching models for clergy, and laypersons might have joined the congregation on important feasts such as Rogationtide. Recent studies have shown, however, that no simple distinction can be made between monks and other clergy on the basis of pastoral activity alone,33 and monks as well as clergy were expected to participate in Rogationtide processions, so plausible contexts might include a monastic church, a cathedral staﬀed by regular canons or secular clerks, or a minster community of priests.34 There were, however, important institutional and spiritual diﬀerences between and Diana Wood (London, 1989), pp. 43–54, at 52. 29 Compare Gatch’s conclusion about the audience of Blickling homily : ‘‘It has mixed address to laity and to clergy so that one suspects the clerical audience has become central: the clergy, it seems, were expected to make use of the text in their instruction of the layfolk’’ (‘‘The Unknowable Audience,’’ p. 105). 30 Wormald, ‘‘The Uses of Literacy in Anglo-Saxon England and its Neighbours,’’ Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, 5th ser. 27 (1977), 95–114. 31 Preface to Genesis, ed. S. J. Crawford, The Old English Version of the Heptateuch, Ælfric’s Treatise on the Old and New Testament and his Preface to Genesis, EETS o.s. 160 (London, 1922), p. 76. 32 Councils & Synods, ed. and trans. Whitelock et al., pp. 260–61. 33 See Giles Constable, ‘‘Monasteries, Rural Churches, and the cura animarum in the Early Middle Ages,’’ in Settimane . . . di studi sull’alto medioevo, 28 (Spoleto, 1982), pp. 349–89; Sarah Foot, ‘‘Parochial Ministry’’; Foot, ‘‘Anglo-Saxon Minsters: A Review of Terminology,’’ in Pastoral Care, ed. Blair and Sharpe, pp. 212–25; Thacker, ‘‘Monks, Preaching and Pastoral Care’’; Clayton, ‘‘Homiliaries and Preaching,’’ pp. 233–35. For a broader geographical perspective, see Thomas L. Amos, ‘‘Monks and Pastoral Care in the Early Middle Ages,’’ in Religion, Culture, and Society in the Early Middle Ages: Studies in Honor of Richard E. Sullivan, ed. Thomas F. X. Noble and John J. Contreni, Studies in Medieval Culture, 23 (Kalamazoo, MI, 1987), pp. 165–80. 34 For these contexts of preaching in Ælfric’s time, see Jonathan Wilcox, ed., Ælfric’s Prefaces (Durham, 1994), pp. 11–12 and 20–21.

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monks and regular canons who followed a rule and lived the full common life, and secular clerks who did not. One of the most important diﬀerences involved the possession of personal property, and it is precisely in the homilist’s treatment of sources condemning wealth that we ﬁnd evidence for the likely status of his intended audience. In Vercelli , after citing Ps. 110.10, ‘‘The beginning of wisdom is fear of the Lord,’’ the homilist describes, in a series of three lists, the spiritual beneﬁts that derive from the fear of God (ll. 54–71). Marina Damiani has suggested that the homilist’s discourse on the fear of God in homily  reﬂects a speciﬁcally monastic spirituality.35 At ﬁrst glance, the inference has much to recommend it: timor Domini is repeatedly invoked as a foundational virtue of monastic life and discipline in St Benedict’s Rule; moreover, as we shall see, it was also prominently and quite literally emblazoned in the iconography of the Anglo-Saxon Benedictine Reform movement. Comparison of the ﬁrst of the homilist’s lists with its ultimate source, however, seems rather to point away from a monastic milieu. Although it has not previously been noticed, his enumeration of virtues which are generated consecutively from the fear of God as from a root, and which in turn uproot all vices, has its own root in a passage from Cassian’s De institutis coenobiorum.36 Of ðam dryhtnes egesan de timore domini us wiorð[e]ð acenned hiortan onbyrdnes. nascitur conpunctio salutaris. Of ðære onbyrdnesse de compunctione cordis procedit abrenuntiatio, id est nuditas et contemptus omnium facultatum. de nuditate

35 ‘‘Un inedito anglosassone: la  omelia rogazionale del Codex Vercellensis,’’ Romanobarbarica 2 (1977), 269–85, at 275. Damiani, however, also considers the elementary nature of the homily’s instruction suitable for an audience of catechumens or neophytes (p. 275). 36 Ed. M. Petschenig, CSEL 17 (Vienna, 1888), p. 78 (.43). Cassian frequently described virtues (and vices) as outgrowths or descendants of a single root or parent; cf. Morton W. Bloomﬁeld, The Seven Deadly Sins (East Lansing, MI, 1952), pp. 70 and 73. Cassian’s De institutis coenobiorum was known to Alcuin; see J. D. A. Ogilvy, Books Known to the English, 597–1066 (Cambridge, MA, 1967), pp. 105–6. The complete text survives in an Anglo-Saxon manuscript from St Augustine’s, Canterbury (provenance Exeter); Oxford, Bodleian Library, Auct. D. infra 2. 9, fols. 1–110 (s. x2); see Helmut Gneuss, ‘‘A Preliminary List of Manuscripts Written or Owned in England up to 1100,’’ AngloSaxon England 9 (1981), 1–60, at 34 (no. 528).

        213 eaðmodnes bið acenned. Of ðære eaðmodnesse licumlice lustas 7 ealle uncysta wiorð utawytrumade. 7 ealle gastlice mægenu sceolon forðweaxan of dryhtnes egesan. (ll. 55–58)

humilitas procreatur. de humilitate generatur mortiﬁcatio uoluntatum. mortiﬁcatione uoluntatum exstirpantur atque marcescunt uniuersa uitia. expulsione uitiorum uirtutes fruticant atque succrescunt. pullulatione uirtutum puritas cordis adquiritur. puritate cordis apostolicae caritatis perfectio possidetur.

That Cassian’s monastic treatise was among the sources for Vercelli  may appear to support Damiani’s suggestion. As David Knowles pointed out, St Benedict was ‘‘intimately familiar with Cassian ... and even prescribes that a few pages of his writings should be read in public every day.’’ On the other hand, Knowles also states that ‘‘Despite these recommendations, Cassian was never a vade-mecum of the black monks of north-western Europe, and references to his works are rare in English writings and library lists before c. 1150.’’37 Moreover, the context of the passage in the Old English text strongly suggests that the homilist did not in fact draw on Cassian directly. There is nothing in Cassian corresponding to the two immediately following lists concerning the fear of God, so it is more likely that the homilist – or his immediate Latin source – culled the entire sequence from a ﬂorilegium containing extracts De timore Domini. Though I have not found any sources for the two later lists, the passage from Cassian clearly did circulate separately as a popular extract.38 More tellingly, in adapting the passage from Cassian’s monastic treatise, the homilist has systematically omitted all distinctively monastic virtues. In the Old English, the virtue of 37 David Knowles, The Monastic Order in England: A History of its Development from the Times of St Dunstan to the Fourth Lateran Council, 940–1216, 2nd ed. (Oxford, 1963), pp. 11–12 and 12 n.1. 38 E.g., Zürich, Zentralbibliothek, Rheinau 140 (s. viiiex, Switzerland) fol. 36, for which see E. A. Lowe, Codices Latini Antiquiores [CLA], 11 vols. and Supplement (Oxford, 1934–71), , no. 1021; St Gall, Stiftsbibliothek, 230 (s. viii2, St. Gall; CLA , no. 933), p. 526; De vitis patrum ., PL 73, col. 836; Pseudo-Jerome, De septem spiritus sancti donis et septem vitiis, PLS 2, col. 291.

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humility (eaðmodnes) proceeds directly from compunction of the heart (heortan onbyrdnes), omitting Cassian’s intermediary virtue abrenuntiatio, id est nuditas et contemptus omnium facultatum, ‘‘renunciation, that is, deprivation and contempt for all possessions.’’ Again, in the Old English, humility leads directly to the uprooting of ‘‘ﬂeshly desires and all vices’’ (licumlice lustas 7 ealle uncysta) with no precise equivalent for Cassian’s mortiﬁcatio. The Old English list also omits the ﬁnal sequence of virtues in the Latin, purity of heart and the perfection of apostolic charity (apostolicae caritatis perfectio), referring instead back to the fear of God. The omission of ascetic virtues relating to renunciation of material possessions and to the ideal of apostolic perfection suggests that if the homilist’s audience was indeed clerical rather than lay, it must have been composed not of monks who lived the common life and followed the Benedictine Rule, but of secular clergy.39 In Anglo-Saxon England in the ninth and tenth centuries, the secular clergy could own personal property, and some were even married.40 Eric John has surveyed the evidence for property-holding quasi propria by cathedral clerks at Worcester, Ramsey, and Canterbury.41 Secular clerks could maintain separate houses and ‘‘tables,’’ or blocks of estates, holding the endowment of the church in individual livings, later known as prebends.42 In some cases, clergy were granted the right to bequeath their land within their own family or within the community.43 For such men, Cassian’s commendation of the virtues abrenuntiatio, nuditas, contemptus omnium facultatum, mortiﬁcatio uoluntatum, and apostolicae caritatis perfectio would have invoked a speciﬁcally monastic ideal of poverty at best irrelevant to their spiritual lives, and at worst inimical to their worldly livelihoods. Indeed, the phrase contemptus omnium facultatum–which refers to renunciation of material wealth or resources–was also susceptible to a more precise legal construction that might undermine the right of clerks to 39 On secular minsters see John Blair, ‘‘Secular Minster Churches in Domesday Book,’’ in Domesday Book: A Reassessment, ed. Peter Sawyer (London, 1985), pp. 104–42, esp. 114–21; Foot, ‘‘Anglo-Saxon Minsters,’’ 212–25. 40 Those below the rank of deacon were permitted to marry under ecclesiastical law, but there were many married priests as well. See generally G. Caraman, ‘‘The Character of the Late Saxon Clergy,’’ Downside Review, n.s. 44 (1945), 171–89. 41 John, Orbis Britanniae and Other Studies (Leicester, 1966), pp. 162–67. 42 See also Michael Lapidge and Michael Winterbottom, Wulfstan of Winchester: The Life of St Æthelwold (Oxford, 1991), pp. xlvi–xlvii. 43 For bequests of estates by priests, see Caraman, p. 181.

        215 hold and bequeath land individually. As Eric John has shown, in Roman Vulgar Law and also in certain Anglo-Saxon charters, the term facultates can refer to the ‘‘powers’’ granted along with bookland.44 The secular clergy’s right to bequeath their estates was a critical concern, not only for them but for those who might wish to dispossess them or force them to communalize their property. As David Ganz has noted, ‘‘the power of property was always open to justiﬁcation. But the variations in the modes of that justiﬁcation reveal changes in ideology, and remind us that ecclesiastical property exists within a scheme of ideology.’’45 The kind of ideologically motivated revision I am suggesting can be paralleled from a slightly later period in a ﬂorilegium copied by the canons of Salisbury Cathedral in the early twelfth century. Although the precise nature of the religious life at Salisbury at this time is uncertain, the canons apparently did not lead the full common life. In her recent book on the manuscripts of Salisbury Cathedral, Teresa Webber has discussed two tracts which ‘‘set out to demonstrate, one implicitly, the other explicitly, that the attainment of perfection is possible not only for those who live the full common life but also for those who do not.’’46 The purpose of the twelfth-century Meditationes of Godwin the cantor is openly polemical and apologetic. Against the reformers’ view of apostolic perfection, ‘‘which entailed the rejection of all private property and which advocated the holding of all goods in common,’’ Godwin advocated a way of life ‘‘appropriate for those who do not wish to give up their private possessions, and who engage in secular aﬀairs.’’47 The compiler of the second part of the Scala virtutum, a ﬂorilegium copied at Salisbury in the early twelfth century, ‘‘avoided sententiae which were appropriate only for monks, and chose instead passages of more general application. Likewise, he modiﬁed the wording of certain passages to make 44 John, Land Tenure in Early England: A Discussion of Some Problems (Leicester, 1960), pp. 12–15; Orbis Britanniae, pp. 265–71. The Dictionary of Medieval Latin from British Sources, fasc. , ed. D. R. Howlett (Oxford, 1989) s.v. facultas (3) follows John in giving the deﬁnition ‘‘(in Vulgar Law) authority, right (to dispose of land)’’ for two charters, though not for a disputed passage in Bede’s Historia ecclesiastica. 45 ‘‘The Ideology of Sharing: Apostolic Community and Ecclesiastical Property in the Early Middle Ages,’’ in Property and Power in the Early Middle Ages, ed. Wendy Davies and Paul Fouracre (Cambridge, 1995), pp. 17–30, at 18. 46 Webber, Scribes and Scholars at Salisbury Cathedral c. 1075–c.1125 (Oxford, 1992), p. 116. 47 Webber, p. 124.

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them applicable to a wider audience than monks alone.’’48 One of his major sources was Cassian’s monastic treatise De institutis coenobiorum. Among the passages he selected from Cassian was the very passage on the fear of God which was also translated and adapted by the author of Vercelli .49 The alterations to the Cassianic list of virtues in the Scala virtutum are similar to those made by the Vercelli homilist. Although the compiler does retain abrenuntiatio rerum and nuditas, like the Vercelli homilist he omits the phrase contemptus omnium facultatum, which refers speciﬁcally to personal property, and he also reduces the virtue apostolicae caritatis perfectio simply to caritas, thus avoiding a potentially inﬂammatory call for ‘‘apostolic’’ perfection, a phrase which by the late eleventh century had been co-opted by apologists for the full common life.50 During the Benedictine Reform, a similar controversy regarding the common life pitted the reformers against secular canons. Beginning in the reign of King Edgar, and led by the bishops Æthelwold, Dunstan, and Oswald, the reformers forcibly expelled the clerks from several major cathedrals and replaced them with monks pledged to live in strict accordance with Benedict’s Rule, including its prohibition of private property (ch. 33).51 After Edgar’s death,

48

Webber, p. 121. Ed. Webber, Scribes and Scholars, p. 179: ‘‘Principium nostre¸ salutis est timor Domini. De timore, conpunctio. De conpunctione, abrenuntiatio. De abrenuntiatione rerum, nuditas. De nuditate, humilitas. De humilitate, mortiﬁcatio nascitur. De mortiﬁcatione pulsuntur uitia. De expulsione uitiorum, uirtutes pullulant. De pullulatione uirtutum, puritas cordis adquiritur. De puritate cordis, caritas possidetur, que Deus est.’’ 50 See Webber, pp. 125–26; P. Mandonnet, St Dominique: L’idée, l’homme, et l’œuvre, 2 vols. (Paris, 1938) , pp. 167–82. 51 The Epilogue to the Regularis Concordia stresses those ordinances of the Rule forbidding private property, and urges abbots to dispose of superﬂuous wealth so as to lay up treasure in heaven; see Regularis Concordia, ed. and trans. Thomas Symons (London, 1953), p. 69. The reformers read back their own strict Benedictinism into the Anglo-Saxon past.Thus Æthelwold’s account of King Edgar’s establishment of monasteries emphasizes that during the time of Augustine of Canterbury the monks imitated the apostles, ‘‘no one of [whom ] had private possessions, nor even said that he had any, but all things were common unto them’’ (Councils & Synods, trans. Whitelock et al., p. 145). Unfortunately, there is a lacuna in the text shortly thereafter, just as Æthelwold is beginning to contrast this way of life with the abuses of later times, presumably in reference to canons, judging from a later reference to Edgar’s expulsion of ‘‘canons who abounded beyond measure in the aforesaid sins . . .’’ (p. 150). On the reformers’ idealized construction of early Anglo-Saxon monasticism as uniformly Benedictine, see Simon Coates, ‘‘Perceptions of the Anglo-Saxon Past in the Tenth-Century Monastic 49

        217 there was a short-lived ‘‘anti-monastic reaction’’ during which certain noblemen attempted to reclaim some of the estates conﬁscated by the monks – though for motives that seem to have had less to do with religious patronage than political opportunism.52 There were, of course, pragmatic accommodations as well as ideological confrontations. In some cases clerks who agreed to follow a rule such as Chrodegang’s were allowed to maintain their communities and estates in common, and at Worcester under Oswald some cathedral clergy continued to hold leases of estates which descended within the Worcester familia.53 However, had the author of Vercelli  been addressing Benedictine monks or reformed canons, he would have had no motive for omitting from his source those virtues which commended the renunciation of possessions. With these discreetly omitted, the list of virtues, though considerably shorter, still appears intact, and is made suitable for a non-monastic audience. The homilist, then, may have tailored his source for an audience of secular clergy. If the evidence of this brief passage from Vercelli  were isolated, it would be less compelling. One cannot rule out the possibility that the tailored passage from Cassian had already been ‘‘taken up’’ in the homilist’s immediate source. But a close comparison of the treatment of the known sources of homilies – reveals a consistent pattern of revision in order to mitigate or qualify any apparent condemnation of wealth. The homilist concludes his discussion of fear of God in homily , for example, by citing a blend of verses 10 and 11 of Psalm 33 (italics highlight the words he retains, bold type his omission):

Reform Movement,’’ in The Church Retrospective, ed. R. N. Swanson, Studies in Church History, 33 (Woodbridge, 1997), pp. 61–74. 52 See D. J. V. Fisher, ‘‘The Anti-Monastic Reaction in the Reign of Edward the Martyr,’’ Cambridge Historical Journal 10 (1950–52), 254–70; cf. Councils & Synods, ed. and trans. Whitelock et al., pp. 155–65. 53 See Vanessa King, ‘‘St Oswald’s Tenants,’’ in St Oswald of Worcester: Life and Inﬂuence, ed. Nicholas Brooks and Catherine Cubitt (London, 1996), pp. 100–16, at 111–13. Whether Oswald had at some point expelled clerks in favor of monks is debated. See John, Orbis Britanniae, pp. 234–48; P. H. Sawyer, ‘‘Charters of the Reform Movement: the Worcester Archive,’’ in Tenth-Century Studies, ed. David Parsons (London, 1975), pp. 84–93; and John, Reassessing Anglo-Saxon England (Manchester, 1996), pp. 116 and 122, n. 22.

218

 . 

timete Dominum omnes

sancti eius quoniam nihil

deest timentibus eum. Divites eguerunt et esurierunt inquirentes autem Dominum non deﬁcient omni bono.

Timentibus dominum non

deﬁcient omni bon[o] . . . Þa

men þe him dryhten

ondrædað, ne springaþ hie

fram ænegum gode. (ll. 68–

71)

By eliding the phrase ‘‘the rich have wanted and hungered,’’ he avoids the disturbing implication that the rich and the God-fearing are mutually exclusive categories. That this is not simply an accident resulting from faulty transmission in the Vercelli text is shown by the homilist’s own translation of the blended verses. Again, in homily , the homilist follows Caesarius of Arles54 up to the citation of Luke 6.25, ‘‘Woe to you who laugh now; for you shall mourn and weep.’’ Caesarius goes on to apply the verse to the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, ‘‘clothed in purple and ﬁne linen,’’ who merits torment in the ﬂames of hell. The Vercelli homilist omits this allusion entirely, substituting a paraphrase of Luke 6.25 which qualiﬁes its implicit condemnation of wealth by suggesting that riches are damning only if one does not fear God (bold type highlights the homilist’s qualifying periphrasis): Vae uobis qui ridetis nunc, quia lugebitis et ﬂebitis [Lc 6.25]. Sic fecit et ille infelix dives, qui purpura induebatur et bysso:[Lc. 16.19] gaudium quidem habuit in mundo, sed ﬂammas invenire meruit in inferno. Lazarus, qui iacebat ad ianuam eius, tristitiam habuit in via, se verum gaudium recepit in patria.

‘Ue uobis qui ridetis n[unc] quia lugebitis et ﬂebitis’. He cwæð: ‘Wa eow þe nu hlihhaþ, for þan þe ge eft heofaþ 7 wepað’. Efne swa he openlice cwæde: ‘‘Ða men þe mæstne dream 7 mæstne welan 7 mæste blisse butan Godes ondrysnum upahebbað her on worulde, hie þonne eft mæste unrotnesse butan ende 7 mæstne ungefean butan ænigre blisse hie onfoð 7 aræfniað. (ll. 75–81)

54 For the homilist’s use of Caesarius, Sermo ccxv, De natale Sancti Felicis, see Rudolf Willard, ‘‘Vercelli Homily  and Its Sources,’’ Speculum 24 (1949), 76–87. The passage quoted is ed. G. Morin, CCSL 103 (Turnhout, 1953), pp. 857–58.

        219 Here he ﬁrst translates the gospel verse literally. Then, showing he has learned a trick or two from the Fathers, he introduces a tendentious restatement with the Old English equivalent of that patristic formula of ﬂexible paraphrase, Ac si aperte diceret: ‘‘Even as if he had explicitly said, ‘Those men who here in this world maintain the most joy and the most wealth and the most bliss without the fear of God, they will subsequently receive and endure the most sadness without end and the most misery without any joy.’ ’’ Finally, the homilist may have eﬀected a similar strategic alteration in homily , but unfortunately a lacuna in the text makes it impossible to be sure. Cogitemus, fratres, quia quando caro copiosis deliciis satiatur, et abundanti vino nimis inﬁcitur, pabulum luxuriae ministratur, et esca vermium providetur. Rogo vos, fratres, aspicite ad sepulchra divitum, et quotiens iuxta illa transitis, considerate et diligenter inspicite, ubi sunt illorum divitiae, ubi ornamenta, ubi anuli vel inaures, ubi diademata pretiosa, ubi honorum vanitas, ubi luxoriae voluptas, ubi spectacula vel furiosa vel cruenta vel turpia. Certe transierunt omnia tamquam umbra; et si paenitentia non subvenerit, sola in perpetuum obprobria et crimina remanserunt. Considerate diligentius et videte superborum sepulchram et agnoscite quia nihil in eis aliud nisi soli cineres et foetidae vermium reliquiae remanserunt. . . .

. . . unnyttan lustas, druncennesse 7 fyrenlusta gytsung

7 unriht gestrodu.

Hwæt wunaþ þysses mid ðam men oferhydum in ðære byrgenne, nemþe ðara seonuwa 7 þara bana dust in þære eorðan? –

220

 . 

Si velis, o homo, audire, ipsa tibi ossa arida poterint praedicare. Clamat ad te pulvis alterius de sepulchro: Ut quid, infelix, tantum pro saeculi cupiditate discurris? ...

gewiteð swa swa glidende scuwa. Þær þæt, la, gewiorðan meahte þæt ða drigan ban sprecan meahton of ðære byrgenne to ðam men þe hie swa giorne behealdeð, hie cwædon þonne þus: ‘To hwan, la, ðu earma man 7 þ[u] ungesæliga, gymest ðu þysse worulde swa swiðe . . . ? (ll. 18–24)

Here he borrows part of Caesarius’s dramatic exemplum of the dry bones speaking from the grave, warning the living about death and the loss of transitory things.55 Caesarius ﬁrst identiﬁes the graves’ occupants as the rich, but then slightly later refers to the graves of the proud. The Old English homily as we have it picks up again where Caesarius identiﬁes them as the graves of the proud (these characterizations of the graves’ inhabitants are highlighted in bold above). But, as J. E. Cross has pointed out, the ﬁrst fragmentary sentence after the lacuna seems to echo phrasing from Caesarius prior to his reference to the rich. Another phrase describing how their possessions have ‘‘passed away like a shadow’’ has been brought forward, but refers now more narrowly to avarice and ‘‘wrongful plunder’’ (these correspondences are italicized above). It would appear, then, that the homilist has deliberately passed over Caesarius’s ﬁrst characterization of the deceased in favor of the second, which focuses on their pride rather than their wealth. In any case, in what remains there is no speciﬁc condemnation of wealth, only of avarice and of wealth wrongly obtained or excessively desired, and even these are part of a more comprehensive list of sins which does not focus on material wealth as does Caesarius. Taken together, these passages evince a palpable anxiety concerning the relationship of wealth to the spiritual life. As if to compensate for the suppression of passages in his sources expressing a negative view of material wealth, the homilist also develops a metaphor of spiritual economy. Just as he had suggested in homily  55 J. E. Cross, ‘‘The Dry Bones Speak--A Theme in Some Old English Homilies,’’ Journal of English and Germanic Philology 56 (1957), 434–39. The passage is from Caesarius’s Sermo xxxi, ed. Morin, CCSL 103, p. 135.

        221 that earthly wealth can be rightly held with fear of God, so in homily  he suggests that fear of God is the means by which his audience can ‘‘purchase’’ heavenly rewards: Mid þam egesan we us geceapiað he[o]fenlicu þing, englas for mannum, lif for deaðe, god for yfele, swete for bitere, leoht for þiestrum, soðfæstnesse for unsoðfæstnesse, yðnesse for niðe, sawle mægen for licumlicre mettrymnesse. Gif we wilnigan rixian mid Criste, bebigen we ða woruldcundan lustas for undeaðlicnesse. (ll. 58–63) (With fear we purchase heavenly things: angels for men, life for death, good for evil, sweetness for bitterness, light for darkness, righteousness for unrighteousness, comfort for aﬄiction, strength of soul for bodily inﬁrmity. If we desire to reign with Christ, let us sell worldly pleasures for immortality.)

The homilist had already described his audience as spiritual ‘‘merchants’’ in homily , borrowing an image he found in Caesarius.56 But whereas Caesarius merely compared the Christian’s desire for a heavenly reward with the anxiety of traders on the road as they return to their homeland with great gain, the Vercelli homilist suggests that his audience can use earthly things to ‘‘purchase’’ heavenly rewards: Scitis enim, fratres, quia omnes negotiatores et quicumque iter agentes in uia sunt solliciti, ut in patria possint esse securi; et tunc habent ueram laetitiam, quando cum magno lucro peruenire merentur ad patriam. Ita et nos, dilectissimi fratres, tunc animum nostrum praeparemus ad gaudium, quando peruenire meruerimus ad Christum; . . .

We sculan, la, geþencan þæt we syndon gastlice cypemen. We sculon ceapian mid þyssum eorðlicum þingum þa hiofenlican goldhordas 7 mid þyssum hwilendlican þingum þone ecan welan 7 þa awuniendan ... Cypemen hie sculon bion þonne hie ham cumen mid gesundum ceapum orsorge; swa we þonne sculon bion swiðe hycgende 7 swiðe sorgfulle, ða hwile þe we her sien, in ear[n]unga eces lifes, þæt we þonne eft mægen bion geﬁonde in hiofenlican ham þæs uplican rices. (ll. 63–70)

56 Caesarius of Arles, Sermo ccxv, ed. Morin, CCSL 103, p. 857. The relevance of the mercantile image in Caesarius and Vercelli  to Rogationtide was discussed in a paper by Gordon B. Sellers at the Illinois Medieval Association conference in 1993; cf. Sellers, ‘‘The Old English Rogationtide Corpus: A Literary History,’’ diss. Loyola Univ. of Chicago,1996, Dissertation Abstracts International 57–03, Section A, 1153.

222

 . 

The theme of spiritual merchants is well suited to the liturgical context of Rogationtide, the season when the community as a whole was to give thanks for the fruits of the harvest by processing through the countryside and, as the homilist says in Vercelli , ‘‘oﬀering to God our goods (ceap) and our land and our forest and all our possessions’’ (ll. 32–33). But it is also consistent with the homilist’s other eﬀorts to exonerate the rich, or at least the Godfearing rich. The homilist’s revisions could have been motivated by a desire not to scandalize wealthy but pious lay patrons or parishioners. As Malcolm Godden has recently shown, Ælfric himself, whose foundations of Cerne and Eynsham had been endowed by the wealthy land-owning nobles Æthelweard and Æthelmær, took pains to justify virtuous rich men by adapting his scriptural and patristic sources as required.57 I would not rule out a similar context for these homilies, but in addition to the evidence I have noted pointing to an audience of clergy, a more concrete identiﬁcation of the historical context of these homilies is suggested by the well-known conclusion of Vercelli , in which the homilist complains about the depredation of churches and godcundan hadas (‘‘spiritual orders’’) by kings, bishops, and ealdormen: Nu syndon þa Godes cyrican bereafode 7 þa wiofeda toworpene þurh hæðenra manna gehresp 7 gestrodu, 7 þa weallas syndon tobrocene 7 toslitene 7 þa godcundan hadas syndon gewanode for hyra sylfra gewyrhtum 7 geearnungum. 7 nalas þæt an Godes þeowas ane syndon, ac eac swylce cyningas 7 bisceopas 7 ealdormen, þa þe ðysse þeode rædboran syndon, hie habbað þa godcundan hadas 7 þæt Godes folc gestroden 7 bereafod for leasum tyhtum 7 lyðrum metsceattum. 7 we þonne nu for ure ealra gewyrhtum þas egeslican þing 7 þas ondrysenlican her on worulde þrowigað. (ll. 90–99) (God’s churches are now despoiled and the altars cast down by the plundering and robbery of heathen men, and the walls are broken and breached and the spiritual orders diminished on account of their own deeds and deserts. And not only God’s servants alone, but also kings and bishops and ealdormen, who are counsellors of the people, have robbed and plundered the spiritual orders and the people of God because of false charges and corrupt bribes. And we are now suﬀering these terrible and dreadful things here in the world because of our own deeds.) 57 ‘‘Money, Power and Morality in Late Anglo-Saxon England,’’ Anglo-Saxon England 19 (1990), 41–65.

        223 Celia Sisam has argued that the homilist’s complaints reﬂect speciﬁc historical conditions of late tenth-century England. According to Sisam, the reference to the attacks of the heathen require a dating after the renewed Viking attacks on England in 980, while blame for the depredation of churches by kings would not be likely prior to Ethelred’s destruction of the bishopric of Rochester in 986. ‘‘The passage,’’ Sisam concludes, ‘‘would ﬁt well with the last years of the century, when payment of Danegeld, begun in 991, impoverished the church; or with the ﬁrst years of the eleventh century, when, as Wulfstan’s ‘Sermo Lupi ad Anglos’ shows, reference was still made to the imminent end of the world.’’58 Donald Scragg, pointing out that the homilist’s complaints reﬂect literary conventions, has cautioned that we need not assume a reference to a speciﬁc contemporary situation here.59 The caveat is well taken, but of course even homiletic topoi may be used to comment on the tribulations of the preacher’s own times–as Wulfstan’s Sermo Lupi ad Anglos vividly illustrates.60 Sisam’s proposed context, however, would push the composition of homily  near the outer limit of the palaeographical dating of the manuscript, which is itself a copy. It seems unlikely, too, that these are the words of a monastic preacher or bishop referring either to the period before the Reform or to the anti-monastic reaction after the death of Edgar. The tone and substance of the complaint are generally similar to those 58

The Vercelli Book, p. 36. Scragg, The Vercelli Homilies, p. 220. 60 Cf. Willard’s comments in ‘‘Vercelli Homily  and Its Sources,’’ pp. 79–80. For Wulfstan’s application to his own time of similar material from Gildas and from a sermon ad milites of Abbo of Saint-Germain-des-Près, see J. E. Cross and Alan Brown, ‘‘Literary Impetus for Wulfstan’s Sermo Lupi,’’ Leeds Studies in English, n.s. 20 (1989), 271–91, esp. 280; Nicholas Howe, Migration and Mythmaking in Anglo-Saxon England (New Haven, 1989), pp. 18–27, esp. 21–22. In a monograph that appeared after the completion of this essay, Clare Lees has argued that the apparent contemporary references in Vercelli  should be read within the generic framework of homiletic discourse, wherein a universalizing conception of Christian time and topoi of judgment and decay ‘‘indicate the impossibility of a direct relation between text and event . . .’’ See Lees, Tradition and Belief: Religious Writing in Late Anglo-Saxon England (Minneapolis, 1999), pp. 78–85 (quotation from 85). Lees concedes that Wulfstan’s Sermo Lupi is a striking exception, one which she explains in terms of its ‘‘unique circumstances’’ (pp. 101–5). The manifest contemporaneity of the Sermo Lupi is certainly unusual, but it suﬃces to establish that allusion to contemporary circumstances remained a possibility even within the constraints of homiletic discourse. We need not conclude that a direct relation between a homiletic text and an historical event (especially one so broadly deﬁned as the Benedictine Reform movement) is impossible when it is not explicit and unambiguous. 59

224

 . 

made by monks against secular appropriation of monasteries, for example Æthelwold’s remarks in his account of King Edgar’s establishment of monasteries: ‘‘In my opinion, the observance of this holy rule was impaired in former times through the robbery of evil men, and through the consent of the kings who had little fear of God.’’61 But it is precisely the lack of speciﬁc references to monks, monasteries, or the Rule that distinguishes the Vercelli homilist’s complaint from Æthelwold’s and from Benedictine accounts of the anti-monastic reaction.62 Moreover, the plural godcundan hadas, while perfectly consistent with his other references to the ecclesiastical hierarchy from bishops to mass-priests, would hardly be used to refer speciﬁcally to Benedictine monks. Since the homilist aligns himself with the ecclesiastical hierarchy in a way that avoids reference to monks, and is at some pains to reconcile material wealth with fear of God, we may consider another possibility. Is this in fact a bitter complaint about the Benedictine Reform from the perspective of a secular cleric, that class of godcundan hadas who were dispossessed by reforming bishops in collusion with King Edgar and other powerful magnates? The homilist’s conviction that fear of God justiﬁes even the wealthy is particularly interesting in light of an anecdote from Wulfstan of Winchester’s Life of St. Æthelwold concerning the expulsion of the clerks from the Old Minster in 964. When the monks arrived during Mass, they heard the clerks singing the communion words derived from Psalm 2.11–12, ‘‘Serve ye the Lord with fear, and rejoice unto Him with trembling: embrace discipline, lest ye perish from the just way.’’ Taking this as an omen addressed to them (meaning that the monks should serve the Lord with fear and observe monastic discipline because the clerks had failed to) they entered and evicted all those who refused to accept the Rule.63 The use of this particular Psalm verse – whether the story is fact or ﬁction – as a kind of dramatic sortes sanctorum suggests that the proper understanding of the virtue timor Domini was an ideological battle-ground. For canons, as certainly for the author of Vercelli , fear of God was a disposition 61

Councils & Synods, trans. Whitelock et al., pp. 152–53. For a collection of relevant documents, see Councils & Synods, pp. 155–65. 63 SeeThe Life of Saint Æthelwold, ed. Lapidge and Winterbottom, pp. 30–33. For the liturgical context, see Mary Berry, ‘‘What the Saxon Monks Sang: Music in Winchester in the Late Tenth Century,’’ in Bishop Æthelwold: His Career and Inﬂuence, ed. Barbara Yorke (Woodbridge, 1988), pp. 149–60, at 152. 62

        225 of the soul that justiﬁed independently of monastic ascesis, whereas for the reforming monks it was intimately tied to the observance of regular discipline – as the parallelism in the Psalm verse seemed triumphantly to conﬁrm. Indeed, observance of the Rule and fear of God were associated by St Benedict himself, who charged that the abbot ‘‘should do all things in the fear of God and in observance of the Rule’’ (cum timore dei et observatione regulae omnia faciat), and whose portrait prefacing the copy of the Rule in London, British Library, Cotton Tiberius A., fol. 117v (c. 1050; the famous Regularis Concordia manuscript) shows him crowned with a diadem inscribed ‘‘timor Dei.’’64 Two of the great Anglo-Saxon reforming monastic bishops, Dunstan and Oswald, were similarly identiﬁed with the virtue timor Domini in contemporary documents. The famous frontispiece of ‘‘St. Dunstan’s Classbook’’ (Oxford, Bodleian Library, Auct F. 4.32; s. ix–xi; drawing s. xmed.), fol. 1, shows a monk (identiﬁed as Dunstan in a distich) abasing himself before Christ, who holds a book or tablet inscribed with Psalm 33.12, ‘‘Venite ﬁlii audite me timorem domini docebo vos.’’65 If Dunstan (who seems to have added the distich in his own hand) was content to represent himself as learning the fear of God at the feet of Christ, Byrhtferth in his Enchiridion strikingly elevated Oswald (shortly after the Archbishop’s death) to the level of a biblical patriarch and personal exemplar of fear of God by inserting Oswald’s name in an otherwise conventional list of the patriarchs associated with each of the seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit.66 As Michael Lapidge has argued, Oswald ‘‘was for Byrhtferth an icon of Benedictine monasticism: the embodiment in his own day of the spiritus timoris Dei which was the ﬁrst calling of the Benedictine monk.’’67

64 See Robert Deshman, ‘‘Benedictus Monarcha et Monachus: Early Medieval Ruler Theology and the Anglo-Saxon Reform,’’ in Frühmittelalterliche Studien 22 (1988), 204–40, at 211–15, who cites the passage concerning the abbot from the Rule (.11). The same iconography is found in the Arundel Psalter, London, BL Arundel 155 (1012–23), fol. 133, reproduced in Francis Wormald, English Drawings of the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries (London, n. d.) pl. 22. 65 On the iconography of the frontispiece, see Mildred Budny, ‘‘ ‘St Dunstan’s Classbook’ and its Frontispiece: Dunstan’s Portrait and Autograph,’’ in St Dunstan: His Life, Times, and Cult, ed. Nigel Ramsay, Margaret Sparks, and Tim Tatton-Brown (Woodbridge, Suﬀolk, 1992), pp. 103–42, with a color reproduction facing p. 190. 66 See Michael Lapidge, ‘‘Byrhtferth and Oswald,’’ in St Oswald of Worcester, ed. Brooks and Cubitt, pp. 64–83, esp. 64–65. 67 Lapidge, ‘‘Byrhtferth and Oswald,’’ p. 82.

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The speciﬁc historical contextualization I am suggesting must remain an unprovable hypothesis, but it is consistent with the internal evidence of these homilies’ implied audience, and it would correlate the homilist’s complaints about the state of the church with his tendentious revision of his Latin sources on the fear of God and material wealth, providing a concrete motivation for both. It would, as well, powerfully transform our understanding of these homilies by bringing their spiritual teachings into relief against a background of tenth-century ecclesiastical politics. The voices of the secular clerks were largely suppressed by the reformers, who consistently represented their opponents as worldly and licentious. But perhaps the non-monastic spirituality of Vercelli homilies – represents the maligned clerics’ own belief that fear of God might coexist with wealthy beneﬁces–a secular ideal which it was not in the reformers’ interest to acknowledge.68 I would like to conclude by suggesting brieﬂy the implications of this case study of Vercelli homilies – for the practice of source studies in Old English scholarship. Source studies inevitably and properly focus on the passages which a writer borrows, and the ways in which they have been adapted and altered. But perhaps we have not always paid suﬃcient attention to what authors choose not to borrow from a source text, and to the possibility that such omissions might betray assumptions about their audience as well as their ideological preconceptions. This highlights, of course, one obvious and immediate value of the recovery of sources, for we cannot possibly know when an author is omitting (or altering) something unless we know what texts that author is working with. As Katherine O’Brien O’Keeﬀe has recently pointed out, the relationship between a source text and what she calls the ‘‘target’’ text is not a passive one.69 On the most rudimentary level, it involves a continual series of active choices: what to select, what to omit. While omis-

68 Éamonn Ó Carragáin has recently suggested that the Vercelli Book was a canon’s private book brought to Vercelli on a pilgrimage to the shrine of Eusebius of Vercelli, patron saint of canons. See his ‘‘Rome, Ruthwell, Vercelli: ‘The Dream of the Rood’ and the Italian Connection,’’ in Vercelli tra oriente ed occidente tra tarda antichità e medioevo, ed. Vittoria Dolceti Corazza (Alessandria, 1999), pp. 59–100, at 93–97. Ó Carragáin notes that ‘‘There is no sign in the book that its compiler lived the full community life enjoined in the Regularis Concordia’’ (p. 96). 69 ‘‘Source, Method,Theory, Practice: On Reading Two Old English Verse Texts,’’ Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester 76 (1994), 51–73.

        227 sions may be made for various mundane reasons, they may also be symptomatic of ideologically motivated revision, whereby parts of a source text are tailored, written over, or tendentiously suppressed.70 By making such operations visible, a careful analysis of sources, in conjunction with codicological, internal, and historical evidence, can contribute to an historical understanding of the dynamic reception of tradition by medieval authors and audiences alike. Select Bibliography Caraman, G., ‘‘The Character of the Late Saxon Clergy,’’ Downside Review, n.s. 44 (1945), 171–89. Clayton, Mary, ‘‘Homiliaries and Preaching in Anglo-Saxon England,’’ Peritia 4 (1985), 207–42. Cross, J. E., ‘‘The Dry Bones Speak – A Theme in Some Old English Homilies,’’ Journal of English and Germanic Philology 56 (1957), 434–39. Fisher, D. J. V., ‘‘The Anti-Monastic Reaction in the Reign of Edward the Martyr,’’ Cambridge Historical Journal 10 (1950–52), 254–70. Gatch, Milton McC., ‘‘The Unknowable Audience of the Blickling Homilies,’’ Anglo-Saxon England 18 (1989), 99–115. Godden, Malcolm, ‘‘Money, Power and Morality in Late Anglo-Saxon England,’’ Anglo-Saxon England19 (1990), 41–65. Ó Carragáin, Éamonn, ‘‘Rome, Ruthwell, Vercelli: ‘The Dream of the Rood’ and the Italian Connection,’’ in Vercelli tra oriente ed occidente tra tarda antichità e medioevo, ed. Vittoria Dolcetti Corazza (Alessandria, 1999), pp. 59–100. Scragg, Donald G., ed., The Vercelli Homilies and Related Texts, EETS o.s. 300 (London, 1992). Scragg, Donald G., ‘‘An Old English Homilist of Archbishop Dunstan’s Day,’’ in Words, Texts and Manuscripts. Studies in Anglo-Saxon Culture presented to Helmut Gneuss, ed. Michael Korhammer, with Karl Reichl and Hans Sauer (Cambridge, 1992), pp. 181–92. Willard, Rudolf, ‘‘Vercelli Homily  and Its Sources,’’ Speculum 24 (1949), 76–87.

70 For an example of interested manipulation of patristic citations, see my ‘‘Alcuin’s Ambrose: Polemics, Patrology, and Textual Criticism,’’ in Alcuin of York: Scholar at the Carolingian Court, Germania Latina, 3, ed. Luuk Houwen and Alasdair MacDonald (Groningen, 1998), pp. 143–69.

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CHAPTER TEN

THE PREACHER AS WOMEN’S MENTOR** Nirit Ben-Aryeh Debby (University of Haifa & Hebrew University of Jerusalem)

Introduction At the end of a particularly long sermon, part of his cycle of sermons for Lent, delivered in Siena at the Piazza del Campo in 1427, the Franciscan preacher Bernardino da Siena (1380–1444) appealed to his listeners: Stay still, women: do not leave. What is this? What is this? Let no one leave; wait for confession before you leave. Oh, this is a bad sign! A bad sign is this! The same way you made me break oﬀ my sermon that other time. I am willing to pay three lire of blood so my sermon would not be interrupted! I am ﬁnishing: hear the conclusion.1

The above passage shows the less glamorous side of Bernardino’s preaching. He had diﬃculty controlling a bored audience that was drifting away; he commanded, threatened, complained, and ﬁnally begged them to stay. Even preachers as popular as Bernardino sometimes had diﬃcult moments. The passage is signiﬁcant also in bringing out a special gender relationship between the male preacher and his female listeners. There appear to have been complex interactions between them: while the male preacher tried to guide women in their lives, women as listeners exercised power – * I would like to thank Prof. R. Fubini of the University of Florence and Prof. B.Z. Kedar of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem for many helpful suggestions regarding an earlier version of this study. I would also like to thank the Yad Hanadiv Foundation for their generous support of this study. 1 Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari sul Campo di Siena 1427, vol. 2, ed. Carlo Delcorno (Milan, 1989), p. 1268: State salde, donne: non vi partite. Che è, che è? Non vi partite niuna: aspettate la confessione prima che vi partiate. Oh, elli è il mal segno! Mal segno è questo! Così mi fu anco rotta la predica l’altra volta. Io vorrei che mi costasse tre lire di sangue, e questo mio parlare non mi fusse stato rotto! Io fo ﬁne: ode la conclusione.

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occasionally of a destructive kind, as poor Bernardino experienced. The relationship between male preachers and female listeners has attracted increasing attention in recent years.2 Innovative studies are being written on perceptions of marriage, and on women saints as portrayed in medieval sermons.3 Some scholars have translated and commented on collections of sermons addressed to women;4 others have concentrated on sermons directed to communities of nuns;5 yet others have focused on the domestic guidance appearing in the sermons of mendicant preachers.6 In the context of ﬁfteenth-century Italy, scholars have analyzed the attitudes toward women of the famous mendicant preachers Bernardino da Siena (1380–1444), and Savonarola (1452–98).7 2 Another ﬁeld of research, combining gender and medieval sermons is that on women preachers. See Catherine M. Mooney, ‘‘Authority and Inspiration in the Vitae and Sermons of Humility of Faenza,’’ in Medieval Monastic Preaching, ed. Carolyn Muessig (Leiden, Boston, Cologne, 1998), pp. 93–119; Beverly M.Kienzle, ‘‘Defending the Lord’s Vineyard: Hildegard of Bingen’s Preaching against the Cathars,’’ in Medieval Monastic Preaching, pp. 163–81; Women Preachers and Prophets through Two Millennia of Christianity, ed. Beverly M. Kienzle with Pamela J. Walker, (Berkeley, 1998). 3 See Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons: Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, ed. Nicole Bériou and David L. d’Avray, (Spoleto, 1994); Rosemary D. Hale, ‘‘The ‘Silent’ Virgin: Marian Imagery in the Sermons of Meister Eckhart and Johannes Tauler,’’ in Medieval Sermons and Society: Cloister, City, University, ed. Jacqueline Hamesse, Beverly M. Kienzle, Debra L. Stoudt, and Anne T. Thayer (Louvain- la-Neuve, 1998), pp. 77–94; Carolyn Muessig, ‘‘Paradigms of Sanctity for Thirteenth- Century Women,’’ in Models of Holiness in Medieval Sermons, ed. Beverly M. Kienzle (Louvain- la- Neuve, 1996), pp. 85–102; Anne T. Thayer, ‘‘Judith and Mary: Hélinand’s Sermon for the Assumption,’’ in Medieval Sermons and Society: Cloister, City, University, pp. 63–76. Katherine Ludwig Jansen, The Making of the Magdalen: Preaching and Popular Devotion in the Later Middle Ages (Princeton, 2000). 4 See Carla Casagrande, ed., Prediche alle donne del secolo : Testi di Umberto da Romans, Gilberto da Tournai, Stefano di Borbone (Milan, 1978); Carolyn Muessig, The Faces of Women in the Sermons of Jacques de Vitry (Toronto, 1999). 5 See Nicole Bériou, ‘‘La prédication au béguinage de Paris pendant l’année liturgique 1272–1273,’’ Récherches augustiniennes 13 (1978), 105–229; Veronica M. O’Mara, ‘‘Preaching to Nuns in Late Medieval England,’’ in Medieval Monastic Preaching, pp. 93–119; Regina D. Schiewer, ‘‘Sermons for Nuns of the Dominican Observance Movement,’’ in Medieval Monastic Preaching, pp. 75–92. 6 See Bernadette Paton, Preaching Friars and the Civic Ethos: Siena 1380–1480 (London, 1992), pp. 210–63 (chapter 6 on Regole della vita matrimoniale. Moral Theology, Marriage and the Family); John Coakley, ‘‘Gender and the Authority of Friars: The Signiﬁcance of Holy Women for Thirteenth-Century Franciscans and Dominicans,’’ Church History 60 (1991), 445–60. 7 On Bernardino da Siena and women, see David Herlihy, ‘‘Santa Caterina and San Bernardino: Their Teachings on the Family,’’ in Atti del Simposio Internazionale Cateriniano-Bernardiniano, ed. Domenico Maﬀei and Paolo Nardi (Siena ,1982), pp. 917–33; Ida Magli, ‘‘L’etica familiare e la donna in S. Bernardino,’’ in Atti del Convegno

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For all that, the views of the inﬂuential Dominican preacher, Giovanni Dominici (1356–1419), on women as expressed in his sermons appear to have been overlooked. Dominici’s attitude toward women presents an intriguing case, since he was exceptionally interested in women’s lives throughout his life, and composed many spiritual and domestic guides for their instruction. Dominici, in fact, acted as a mentor to women: to individual females; to a community of nuns; and to a congregation of laywomen who attended his sermons. A large unpublished collection of vernacular reportationes of Dominici’s Florentine sermons contains diverse references to women. In his preaching, Dominici addressed himself directly to women and devoted time to their guidance and instruction, occasionally using images and stories derived from their daily experience.8 In what follows, I will deal ﬁrst with Dominici’s biographical background, explaining his interest in guiding women, and then, turning to the collection of Florentine sermons, to discuss his perceptions of women as revealed in his preaching. This study of Giovanni Dominici’s sermons to women will, it is hoped, contribute to the intriguing issue of the relationship between medieval preachers and their female listeners.

Storico Bernardiniano (Aquila, 1982), pp. 111–26; Franco Mormando, ‘‘Bernardino of Siena, ‘Great Defender’ or ‘Merciless Betrayer’ of Women?’’ Italica 75 (1998), 22–40; Roberto Rusconi, ‘‘S. Bernardino, la donna e la ‘roba’, ’’ in Atti del Convegno Storico Bernardiniano (Aquila, 1982), pp. 97–110. On Savonarola and women see Lorenzo Polizzotto, ‘‘When Saints Fall Out: Women and the Savonarolan Reform in Early Sixteenth Century Florence,’’ Renaissance Quarterly 46 (1993), 486–525; Lorenzo Polizzotto, ‘‘Savonarola, savonaroliani e la riforma della donna,’’ in Studi Savonaroliani, ed. G.C. Garfagnini (Florence, 1996), pp. 229–44; Natalie Tomas, ‘A Positive Reality’: Women and Public Life in Renaissance Florence (Victoria, 1992), pp. 37–57. 8 An interesting study on the manner in which an audience of female readers and listeners has inﬂuenced vernacular literature is Katherine Gill, ‘‘Women and the Production of Religious Literature in the Vernacular, 1300–1500,’’ in Creative Women in Medieval and Early Modern Italy, ed. E. Ann Matter and John Coakley (Philadelphia, 1994), pp. 64–104. Gill discusses the involvement of female audiences in the production of texts of fourteenth-century devotional writers Domenico Cavalca and Simone de Cascina.

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Dominici’s Women: A Biographical Portrait9

Dominici’s personal ties with women inﬂuenced his interest in guiding them. The preacher had a complex and closerelationship with his mother throughout his life, and his spiritual development was dominated by his admiration for Catherine of Siena. He was the spiritual head of the convent of Corpus Domini in Venice, continuing his close contacts with the nuns long after his exile from the city; indeed, most of the information on his early years comes from his correspondence with the nuns of Corpus Domini after he left Venice in 1399. Dominici was also a mentor to many Florentine noblewomen, most notably Bartolomea degli Alberti, to whom he dedicated many of his works. There was a reciprocal relationship between the preacher and women: he guided them in their lives, and they inﬂuenced his perspective. Giovanni Dominici was born in Florence in 1356, son of the silk merchant Domenico di Banchino and his wife, Paola Zorzi, a Venetian noblewoman. Dominici’s father died before his birth and his mother raised him. Especially signiﬁcant is a letter that Dominici sent to his mother on 22 February 1416, only two weeks before her death. In this letter, he reminded her of their past conﬂict about his decision to take holy orders. She wanted him to be a merchant and sent him to Venice for two years (1371–72); yet upon his return, when he was only seventeen, Dominici decided to join the Dominicans at Santa Maria Novella. Dominici further criticized his mother because of her failure to help cure the stutter from which 9 The best biography of Giovanni Dominici is still that by Stefano Orlandi in Necrologio di Santa Maria Novella (Florence, 1955). Useful information is presented in Giorgio Cracco, ‘‘Banchini, Giovanni di Domenico,’’ in Dizionario biograﬁco degli Italiani, vol. 1, ed. B. Bertoni (Rome, 1963), pp. 657–67. See also Daniel Bornstein, ‘‘Giovanni Dominici, the Bianchi, and Venice: Symbolic Action and Interpretive Grids,’’ Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies 23 (1993), 143–71; Daniel Bornstein,The Bianchi of 1399 (Ithaca, 1993); Giorgio Cracco, ‘‘Giovanni Dominici e un nuovo tipo di religiosità,’’ in Conciliarismo, stati nazionali, inizi dell’Umanesimo- Atti del convegno storico (Spoleto, 1990), pp. 3–20; Peter Denley, ‘‘Giovanni Dominici’s Opposition to Humanism,’’ Studies in Church History 17 (1982), 103–14; Daniel Lesnick, ‘‘Civic Preaching in the Early Renaissance: Dominici’s Florentine Sermons,’’ in Christianity and the Renaissance, ed. Timothy Verdon and John Henderson (New York, 1990), pp. 208–25; Roberto Rusconi, L’attesa della ﬁne: Crisi della società, profezia ed Apocalisse in Italia al tempo del grande scisma d’Occidente (1378–1417) (Rome, 1979), pp. 101–11; Daniel Bornstein, ‘‘Le donne di Giovanni Dominici: un caso nella recezione e trasmissione dei messaggi religiosi,’’ Studi medievali 3–36:1 (1995), 355–61.

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he had suﬀered. He bitterly ridiculed the fact that although she had arranged for him to have two surgical procedures to rid him of the stutter, they were no success at all; he explained that his miraculous healing came about through the divine intervention of Catherine of Siena. On a visit to Siena, he came to a church, where he prayed in front of an image of Catherine and asked her to give him the power of speech so that he might become a preacher. Without specifying the exact events, Dominici concluded proudly that his mother and the whole world could see the fulﬁllment of this wish and the revelation of divine grace in his preaching. This evaluation is characteristic of the letter as a whole, which was written for his dying mother but was mainly about the greatness of Catherine. 10 Toward Catherine of Siena, Dominici expressed gratitude and admiration. He described the ﬁrst time he saw her in Santa Maria Novella in Florence, prostrate as though dead, with her soul outside her body. She had performed additional miracles for him, such as curing his tired and injured legs in Rome during the Jubilee celebrations of 1400. Dominici had met Catherine in Pisa, where he had been studying Latin grammar and literature in 1376–77. His fervent admiration derived from his personal experience and should be seen as a part of the Dominican campaign to canonize her; Dominici collaborated with other Dominicans, most notably with Raymond of Capua, in spreading the fame of Catherine in order to bring about her canonization, which took place in 1460.11 In 1388, Dominici was sent by Raymond of Capua to ﬁll the post of lecturer of theology at the church of San Zanipolo in Venice. He became an important ﬁgure in the Dominican reform movement, the Osservanza, and set up a network of reformed houses in northeastern and central Italy. In Venice, he served as a spiritual guide to Doge Antonio Venier, acted as personal confessor to his wife, and inﬂuenced several noblemen and noblewomen to join the Dominicans. He became a popular preacher in Venice and was appointed by the Venetian government to preach the Lent sermons each year. 10 Giovanni Dominici, Lettere spirituali, ed. M.T. Casella and G. Pozzi (Fribourg, 1969), pp. 224–8. 11 On the Dominican campaign to canonize Catherine, see Soﬁa Boesch Gajano and Odile Redon, ‘‘La Legenda Major di Riamondo da Capua, Costruzione di una santa,’’ in Atti del simposio internazionale Cateriniano-Bernardiniano, ed. Domenico Maﬀei and Paolo Nardi (Siena, 1982), pp. 15–35.

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Dominici was responsible for the reopening of the convent of Corpus Domini in 1394. The nuns of Corpus Domini came mainly from Venetian aristocratic families, and Dominici became their spiritual guide and administrator. He organized Corpus Domini according to the ideals of a convent in Pisa that Chiara Gambacorta, a devoted disciple of Catherine, had established in 1390. Dominici attempted to limit the contact of the nuns with their families, encouraging their seclusion and advocating the ideal of a spiritual bond with Christ as an alternative to family loyalty. Corpus Domini became one of the most important religious houses in Venice, and the Venetian government encouraged its growth. 12 It is of interest that most of the information we have on Giovanni Dominici comes through documents written by women. Hence a central document for evaluating his position in Venice is the Necrologio of the Corpus Domini written by his devoted disciple Sister Bartolomea.This document illustrates both the widespread admiration for but also considerable opposition to Dominici in Venetian society. The nuns of the convent considered him a saint, a model of perfection; others, including some aristocratic fathers, objected to his power over young women and called him ‘‘the child thief.’’ This unﬂattering label is, however, indicative of Dominici’s inﬂuence.13 Dominici was exiled from Venice in 1399, after a confrontation with its government over the Bianchi, a popular penitential movement that involved people dressed in white parading and crying ‘‘Peace and mercy!’’ The Council of Ten, fearing for the stability of the state, refused the Bianchi permission to enter Venice. Shortly after, Dominici staged his own procession of penitents, which may be seen as a ﬂaunting of autonomy in religious matters. The reaction of the Venetian government was swift: the procession was dispersed, and Dominici and two collaborators were arrested and banished from Venetian territory for ﬁve years.14 Dominici found refuge in a Dominican monastery in Città di Castello and began his long correspondence with the Venetian nuns. These letters were

12

Bornstein 1993, pp. 145–6. Bartolomea Riccoboni, ‘‘Necrologio del Corpus Domini,’’ in Giovanni Dominici, Lettere p. 317. See also Bornstein 1993, pp. 147–8. See also Sister Bartolomea Riccoboni, Life and Death in a Venetian Convent: the chronicle and necrology of Corpus Domini 1395–1436, ed. and trans. Daniel Bornstein (Chicago, 2000) 14 Bornstein 1994, pp. 117–61, 162–88. 13

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simultaneously an attempt by Dominici to continue to inﬂuence the lives of the nuns in Corpus Domini and a kind of a psychological remedy for his misery. In his ﬁrst letter to the nuns, dated 1 December 1399, Dominici drew a parallel between Christ, who was cruciﬁed with two evil thieves, and himself, a person less than mud, who was expelled with two saints. He promised the nuns that just as Christ rose from the dead, he would be vindicated.15 In 1400 Dominici was invited to Florence to preach the next Advent and Lent sermons. During the years that followed, he established his reputation as a preacher both in Santa Maria Novella and in Santa Maria del Fiore. Dominici taught theology at the university of Florence and became a spiritual mentor to several individuals in Florence, among them the noblewoman Bartolomea degli Alberti. In 1405, Dominici founded the monastery of San Domenico in Fiesole, in which he gathered a group of enthusiastic pupils, among them Antoninus Pierozzi, the future archbishop of Florence. Dominici was sent to Rome as an ambassador to represent the interests of Florence in ending the Great Schism. After Angelo Correr of Venice, Dominici’s longtime friend, was elected pope, as Gregory , in opposition to the Florentine interest, the Signoria dismissed Dominici from his post as ambassador of Florence; he, for his part, decided to remain at the Curia. Dominici was appointed Archbishop of Ragusa in 1407, and a cardinal in 1408. In a rare short letter to the nuns of Corpus Domini dated 24 April 1408, Dominici explained that the pope had chosen him to help direct the Church, and that he must accept this nomination as Christ had accepted his crown of thorns. Dominici continued that he did not feel any joy regarding his new oﬃce; he accepted it merely in order to serve God and help the Venetian nuns. He also expressed the hope that he might sometime in the future be able to return to the humble sheepfold of St Dominic. This letter was full of rhetorical ﬂourishes; but the very decision to write it in itself hints at the uneasiness Dominici felt and the need to defend his actions to his old-time friends, the nuns of Corpus Domini. 16 Little information is available on Dominici’s last years. In 1409 he served as a papal legate to Sigismund of Hungary and Ladislaus of Poland. He participated in the Council of Pisa (1409) 15 16

Giovanni Dominici, Lettere, pp. 87–97. Ibid., pp. 184–5.

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and in the Council of Constance (1414–18). In 1417 he was sent by Martin  to Bohemia and Hungary as a papal legate to ﬁght the Hussite heresy, and he died in Budapest in 1419. Dominici’s Works and Sermons17 Dominici’s literary works are many and varied, comprising sermons, lectures, devotional manuals, treatises, commentaries, biographies, letters, and poetry. Many deal with the material and spiritual guidance of women. The Itinerarium Devotionis of 1402, a commentary on the Song of Songs in the form of a Latin sermon, was sent to Corpus Domini as a continuation of the lessons there. The letters sent to the sisters at Corpus Domini dating from 1394 to 1409 are now available in a critical edition and include, as an appendix, an additional letter in the form of a vernacular sermon.18 Three of Dominici’s most important works were written in Florence, addressed to the noblewoman Bartolomea degli Alberti. They are Regola del governo (1401), a domestic treatise meant to guide her in educating her children and running her household; Il libro d’amore (1404), an extended commentary on  Corinthians 13; and Il trattato delle dieci questioni (1404), a mystical treatise addressing the spiritual questions of Bartolomea. Dominici’s sermons appear in collections of his works, often together with the Regola – for example, in manuscript Barberiano lat.3724 in the Vatican. The sermons are also found in collections of devotional treatises together with sermons of the Church Fathers, especially Augustine – for example, in manuscript Ricc.1313 in the Biblioteca Riccardiana in Florence – or together with other mystical authors such as Catherine of Siena and Iacopone da Todi – for example, in manuscript S. Pant.19 (112) in the Biblioteca

17 Many of Dominici’s works are edited. For a survey of his unedited works see Guglielmo D’Agresti, ‘‘Introduzione agli scritti inediti del Dominici,’’ Memorie Domenicane 1 (1970), 51–199. For Dominici’s sermons see Carlo Delcorno, ‘‘Repertorium of Italian Vernacular Sermons,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 41 (1998), 41–6; A. Galletti, ‘‘Prediche inedite di Giovanni Dominici,’’ in Miscellanea di studi critici in onore di Guido Mazzoni, ed. Alfredo Della Torre (Florence, 1907), pp. 253–78. 18 On Dominici’s letters see Lia Sbriziolo, ‘‘Note su Giovanni Dominici,’’ Rivista di storia della chiesa in Italia,  (1970), 4–30. For Dominici’s sermon sent to the nuns of Corpus Domini see Giovanni Dominici, Lettere, pp. 245–56.

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Nazionale in Rome. It seems likely that these collections were used by individuals and confraternities for devotional purposes.19 Two collections in the Riccardiana library in Florence are Ricc. 1414 (ﬁve sermons) and Ricc. 2105 (seven sermons). These two manuscripts were copied by the nuns of the Convent of St Lucy in Florence, which could indicate that Dominici’s sermons and treatises were used among ﬁfteenth- and sixteenth-century nuns.20 Dominici’s Florentine Sermons A major manuscript containing the forty-seven sermons that Dominici preached in Florence between 1400 and 1406 is MS.1301 in the Biblioteca Riccardiana in Florence. These sermons were preserved in the form of Tuscan reportationes, and the collector of the sermons is anonymous. His/her knowledge of Latin appears to have been rather poor, there being numerous mistakes in the opening Latin thema of the sermons, which occasionally is omitted altogether. The sermons are mixed, delivered on diverse liturgical occasions, and without any chronological order. Most are undated. The collection consists of sermons de tempore and de sanctis. The de tempore include sermons on Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Sundays, and holy days during Lent, Easter, and the weeks before Pentecost. The de sanctis include sermons on Zenobius (a local patron saint of Florence), Martin, Peter, Paul, and Holy Innocents’ Day. In these sermons, Dominici followed the scheme of the sermo modernus, opening with the Latin thema, then introducing the plan of the divisions, and ending with a prayer. His main auctoritates were the Church Fathers Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas, and canon law.The manuscript was ﬁrst brought to light and discussed by Alfredo Galletti in 1907. Some passages from MS Ricc. 1301 have been quoted by D’Agresti (1970), Rusconi (1979), Denley (1982), and Lesnick (1990). Yet only brief sections of the manuscript have so far been used in research. 19 For a list of the manuscripts containing Dominici’s sermons see Delcorno, pp. 41–2, 47–52. 20 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1414, 79v: Copiate per me, Suore N. del monasterio di Sancta Lucia di via di San Gallo, compiuta a dì 27 di septembre, 1518. The manuscript includes Dominici’s writings such as the Regola, Epistole, Lettere, and Prediche (181v–245r). MS Ricc. 2105 is dated to 1470 and was copied by the nuns of the same monastery. The seven sermons are to be found in 175r–219r.

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I will use this collection in order to discuss Dominici’s guidance of women. Wives and Nuns Dominici tried to shape the private lives of his female listeners and did not hesitate to advise them on the most personal matters. This desire for absolute control, which was based on the traditional authority of the Church in moral issues, may account for the discussion of these themes by Dominici both in his sermons and in his other works. Unlike other Italian preachers, Dominici examined moral issues in an unstructured manner, in passages scattered throughout his sermons.21 There seems to have been no systematic connection between the liturgical occasion of the sermon and Dominici’s references to women. Occasionally, he emphasized the need for chastity during the time of Lent, or referred to children in a sermon preached on Holy Innocents’ Day.22 In general, however, he approached women and discussed issues concerning them by way of association, and through images and stories intended to interest them. Dominici, above all, viewed women within the context of the family. He considered the patriarchal family to be the foundation of Christian society and a remedy for the decline of morals. He praised the conventional hierarchical household consisting of the husband as the head, the wife by his side as an inferior companion, and the obedient children below them.23 Dominici occasionally addressed the relationships between family members. In a sermon delivered on Passion Friday, for example, he declared that the worst sin was ‘‘beating your father…your mother, a brother or an-

21 Cf. the series of well-organized sermons on morality delivered by Bernardino da Siena in his Lent cycles, for example, Bernardino da Siena, Le prediche volgariQuaresimale Fiorentino del 1424, vol. 1, ed. Ciro Cannarozzi (Pistoia, 1934), pp. 405–24: Della donna onesta, or Le prediche volgari- Quaresimale Fiorentino del 1425, vol. III, ed. Ciro Cannarozzi (Florence 1940), pp. 220–35: Come debba vivere la donna in questo mondo e massimamente le vergini. For a detailed list and discussion see Rusconi. 22 The Holy Innocents’ Day is December 28 and it is dedicated to the young children killed by Herod after birth of Jesus (Matt. 2:16). 23 On the structure of the medieval household see David Herlihy, Medieval Households (London, 1985).

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other relative who is not a stranger.’’24 In a Lent Sunday, Dominici cited the example of the child or wife who donates to charity without the consent of the father or husband, saying to the husband: ‘‘If you don’t consent to the deed, you will lose both the money and the reward [for the good deed].’’25 Dominici saw the family as a solution for carnal desires and a safeguard against temptations. He reﬂected the medieval anxiety over the sins of the ﬂesh and expressed fear of sexuality.26 In a sermon delivered on a Lent Sunday he pronounced sexual relations between a married couple to be legitimate, whereas ‘‘the carnal delights outside of matrimony were mortal sins that kill the soul.’’ He argued that carnal passion should be controlled like a female servant, emphasizing that Lent was a time of penitence and chastity, not of delight. The conclusion was that every woman should have a husband and every man a wife.27 The preacher stressed the importance of fulﬁlling one’s sexual duties in marriage – a common theological attitude, shared by earlier and contemporary canonists.28 Dominici, however, did not freely examine sexuality. He made vague references such as ‘‘the desire for a concupiscent act,’’ and generally spoke in abstractions in his theological discussions on the topic.29 In this respect, he was very diﬀerent from the Franciscan preacher Bernardino da Siena, who discussed the conduct of sexual relations at length and in detail in his sermons. 30 24 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 30, l. 153–4: Magiore pechato è abattere padre et madre, fratello et propinquo che non sarebe uno strano. 25 Ibid., Predica 23, l. 93–8: Se tu se’ padre o marito e nettati gli orechi che ‘l tuo ﬁgliuolo o lla tua donna aranno fatto limosina che nolla possono fare del tuo… Ma pure se dato fossi et tu padre o tu marito non consenti a quello che fatto…ài ti perduto i danari, e ‘l premio. 26 For a survey of medieval perceptions of sexuality see James Brundage, Law, Sex and Society in Medieval Europe (Chicago 1987), pp. 422–5. 27 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 22, l. 129–32: ‘‘…la conchupiscenza de’ diletti charnali… i quali fuori di matrimonio sono pechati mortali, uccidono questa anima…Falla stare chome schiava a ubidenza. Non è tempo questo da delizie, ma è da penitenza, da castità…amare la donna così la donna il suo… 28 Brundage, pp. 505–10. The idea is already evident in Gratian and was echoed by canonists of the fourteenth and ﬁfteenth centuries, such as Felino Sandeo, Johannes Bosch, Ludovicus Sardus, Peter of Ancharano, Egidio of Bellamera, and Niccolo de’ Tudeschi. 29 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 44, l. 220–1: voglia di conchupiscenza carnale; or Predica 22, l. 129: la conchupiscenza de’ diletti charnali. 30 Bernardino da Siena was exceptional in this respect. David Herlihy and Christiane Klapisch-Zuber Tuscans and Their Families (New Haven, London, 1985), p.

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Dominici was not only describing a universal ideal of matrimony, he was also responding to a speciﬁc reality. The period 1300 to 1427, characterized in Tuscany by depopulation caused by the Black Death and recurrent epidemics, was a time of collective pessimism and anxiety. 31 The plague of 1400 even aﬀected the personal life of Dominici, since it devastated Santa Maria Novella, his home at that time.32 In a Lent sermon, Dominici voiced the prevalent pessimism and concern over the fragility of life: ‘‘Will you put your trust in your family? Think, in such a short time a plague will make your house empty!’’ In another sermon delivered on a Tuesday in Pentecost, he lamented the empty houses in the Florence of his day, compared with the full homes of the past. He condemned the greed of a citizen who, although a bachelor living alone, still desired ‘‘a great house that was once desired by a large family.’’33 The decrease in population led to a decline in the number of marriages. In response, matrimony received both institutional and moral support in Florence. A trend began of portraying the ideal patriotic citizen as a family man and head of the household. It is evident both in private memoirs, such as those of Giovanni Morelli, and in literary works, such as Leon Battista Alberti’s I libri della famiglia. In 1421 the government attempted to pass a law prohibiting unmarried men from holding public oﬃce.34 Dominici participated in this collective campaign to promote marriage and devoted portions of his sermons to encouraging the creation of families. He assigned other advantages to matrimony besides its being a religious command and a solution for lust. In a sermon delivered on a Saturday in Lent, he advocated procreation as a way of preserving the name of the family, admonishing the Florentine father: ‘‘Why would you desire a son? So that he will maintain your fame after

252) argue that ‘‘Bernardino marks an epoch in the history of moral theology in Tuscany. No preacher or writer before him so explicitly treats sexual practices, both inside and outside of marriage.’’ See also Rusconi, pp. 107–10. 31 See Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, chap. 1. 32 Ibid., pp. 85–6. 33 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 13, l. 229–231: Pon’tu ferma speranza in famiglia? Pensa in quanto poco tempo una febricella tene vota la chasa; Predica 47, 156v: Ma se tu considerrai le famiglie stavano antichamente nelle chase troverrai ogni casa avea parechi famiglie, era la grande moltitudine, pativano universare, vedere l’uno l’altro, erano gli abituri grandi quasi per nicistà. Oggi se’ fossi solo, così si vuole l’abituro grande come antichamente avessino vuoluto parechi famiglie. 34 On the views of humanists and on the proposed law see Herlihy and KlapischZuber, pp. 228–31.

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you.’’ Compared with earlier theologians, he was unique in using civic language and values, such as personal glory, alongside religious ones to advocate marriage.35 The preacher also responded to problems in the Florentine marriage market. The discrepancy in age between spouses was growing, since women married under the age of twenty while men tended to delay marriage until they were ﬁnancially established. Half of the male population below age thirty was unmarried.36 In his complaints against older merchants who left their teenage wives to languish at home, Dominici alluded to this age diﬀerence between spouses. For example, in a sermon delivered on the Holy Innocents’ Day, he remarked: ‘‘The wife is preserved well when she does not have to be separated from her husband.’’37 The shortage of grooms led many of the upper and middle-class women to retire to convents because their chances of marrying appropriately were slim.38 The preacher disapproved of this custom and moralized explicitly against the phenomenon of nuns. In a sermon delivered on a Sunday after Pentecost, Dominici referred to a girl who had decided to join a convent only to imitate the example of other women and not from a conscious choice, concluding that she should not be accepted as a nun. In an imaginary dialogue between himself and the young girl he asked: ‘‘Why do you wish to become a nun?’’ and then had the young girl answer: ‘‘Because I see this nun and that nun.’’ One can imagine the contrast in tone between the conﬁdent preacher and the confused girl in this dramatized scene.39 Dominici, then, argues for the equal value of the active life as opposed to the contemplative life for women, using the exemplum of Martha and Mary Magdalene: You know the example of Martha who complained to Christ asking why Magdalene did not follow her active way but stayed in the contemplative one. ‘‘Tell her, master, tell Magdalene to help me.’’ You know his

35 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 20, 66r: Però desideri il ﬁgliuolo? Perché mantenghi dopo te la tua fama… 36 Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, pp. 202–28 37 Ricc. 1301, Predica 41, l. 45–46: La sposa, la quale allora si conserva bene quando non si parte dal suo marito… 38 Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, pp. 222–6. 39 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 44, l. 171–3: Domanda la feminetta, la fanciulla: ‘‘Perché vuo’ tu essere monacha?’’-‘‘Perché vegho quella e quell’altra monacha.’’

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answer: ‘‘You follow your way and leave Magdalene in hers, you in the kitchen and she at my feet.40

Dominici used this traditional material to illustrate that both ways, the active and the contemplative, were acceptable in the eyes of the Church. In a sermon delivered on the Holy Innocents’ Day, the preacher exalted the ideal of virginity and compared it to a ‘‘pearl.’’41 But with equal enthusiasm he commended the merits of matrimony: either virginity or matrimony, he told women, was praiseworthy in the eyes of God.42 In other sermons, the preacher warned men not to abandon their families to follow a holy vocation. In a sermon delivered on a Monday in Pentecost, he told fathers not to desert their wives and children, that they could reach spiritual perfection while remaining with the family. He suggested that a man could reach a state of grace within marriage more easily than in the virgin state of his youth.43 Some historians have argued that the majority of theologians and canonists of the fourteenth and ﬁfteenth centuries exalted the value of chastity and questioned the sacred aspect of marriage, even preaching against it.44 Dominici contradicts this view; he unequivocally praised marriage. A telling exemplum illustrating Dominici’s attention to family life and his suspicion of the childless woman, appears in a sermon delivered on a Lent Friday. After a long legal discussion on penitence and restitution, Dominici told the following story of a priest who wrote to the pope about a case revealed to him in confession: A good man, who was seriously ill, decided to distribute his possessions according to his best judgment. His wife, who did not have any children by him, desired to inherit from him, and thought up an evil deed: to 40 Ibid., Predica 44, l. 174–176: Sai l’exempro di Marta quando si dolea che ‘l maestro Christo perché Magdalena none andava per lla via sua attiva ma stavasi nella contemplativa: ‘‘De dì , maestro, a Magdalena m’aiuti.’’ Sai le fu risposto: ‘‘Sta tu in cotesta via et lascia Magdalena in quella. Tu in chucina ed ella a piedi miei.’’ 41 Ibid., Predica 41, l. 31: Ma più si può assomigliare questa preziosa perlla alla vergina et purità che ad altro. 42 Ibid., Predica 44, l. 195: Sappi bene, che chosì si può meritare a matrimonio come a religione è. 43 Ibid., Predica 36, 117r–117v: Tu ai donna et ﬁgliuoli et sarai in perfezione dello spirito sancto ti diciesse lascia la donna e ﬁgliuoli et seghui me che io il faro. Or’ diciamo così se llo spirito sancto mai non ti muta di quello stato ove tu se’, et vuole pure che tu ti stia colla donna et colla famiglia che adunque muta in te poi che sempre crescie in perfezzione? Muta che posto non ti muti di questa vita, cioè di questo stato colla donna et colla famiglia, ti fare in questo stato crescere di grado in grado in tanta altezza che tu tti troverrai tanto puro dentro nel matrimonio quanto fussi giovanni nella virginità. 44 Brundage, pp. 495–7, Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, pp. 228–32.

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drink a special concoction that would make her puﬀ up [appear as if she were pregnant]. She went to her husband: ‘‘My husband, see in what state you desert me! I am pregnant. Do you want to leave your possessions to someone other than your own son?’’ And she did more, when the time came [of the delivery] and the condition of the man became worse…[she involved] a poor pregnant woman who was about to deliver. Then she brought [the baby] to the house, pretended to have delivered it [the baby], and showed [it] to the husband. The husband believed that the baby was his. He prepared a new will, leaving much for the support of the one he thought to be his own son.45

The deceitful wife did not want to return the money and did not even regret her evil deed. The problem before the priest was what to do with the sinful woman and whether the will should be respected. The answer from the pope was that the priest should hear the woman, and grant her partial pardon for her other sins, and that the will was valid since it was, after all, the last wish of the deceased. The story was used to concretize the theological question of penitence and restitution and to capture the interest of the listeners, bored and perhaps drowsy from the preceding legal discussion. Dominici emphasized the necessity of children: had there been a son, the woman would have inherited the husband’s estate legally and the deception would never have taken place. But the story also epitomized the negative image of women and served to warn all husbands against the potential viciousness of their wives. The preacher was especially worried about women’s manipulation of their ability to conceive, going so far as to suggest a conspiracy among women to deceive men. Here, two women, representing two distinct social classes, were involved in the deceit: the avaricious lady of the house, and the needy pregnant woman who participated in the fraud. Dominici sensed that social boundaries could disappear when women wanted to collaborate in tricks to deceive men. The wife was a reprehensible character from the 45 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 19, l. 164–80: Un buono huomo, infermo ed essendo grave, avendo testato il suo dove meglio gli pareva. La sua donna, la quale none avea di lui ﬁgliuoli, per desiderio della roba che rimanesse a llei, pensò questa malizia: di pigliare sugo di certe erbi, la quale la fecie enﬁare. Andò al marito: ‘‘Marito mio, tu vedi in che chaso tu mi lasci! Sono grossa. Vuoi tu lasciare innanzi il tuo altrui che al tuo ﬁgliuolo?’’ E più fa, ch’ella vegnendo a tempo e lla infermità di colui dura a posta d’una povera persona grossa che ssia per fare il fanciullo. E artiﬁciatamente se ‘l fa venire in chasa e fa vista averlo fatto ella e mostrarlo al marito. Chrede sia suo. Rifa testamento. Ritglie dove bene avea lasciato a notrichato e notrichasi quegli chrede che ssia suo ﬁgliuolo.

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start, even before the deception, since she had not fulﬁlled her role as a mother, had not given her husband a child. And she remained corrupted after the death of her husband and did not repent her sin. A similar story was told by Bernardino da Siena in Florence in 1424 in a Lent sermon. It was briefer and less detailed, and without dramatized scenes. In this case, the husband was not sick, and the childless woman stuﬀed cotton and other material under her dress to make herself appear pregnant. However, as in Dominici’s version, when the time for the delivery came, she took the son of another woman and deceived her husband.46 The repetition of the story reveals it to be a literary convention used by preachers, as well as a reﬂection of contemporary problems concerning inheritance. Both preachers emphasized the manipulative character of women and the alienation existing between the married couple. The marriage was based on a ﬁnancial interest, and women could be disguised as pregnant for a considerable period of time in the eyes of their husbands. The conclusion of both preachers was similar: women’s place was at home, and women had to be mothers, otherwise they were sinful and destructive. Housewives and Mothers But as dedicated housewives and committed mothers women did have a positive role to play. The preacher occasionally borrowed his imagery from women’s household experience. In a sermon delivered on Ash Wednesday, he deﬁned the relations between body and soul as those between a mistress and her maid. Mixing the abstract with the concrete, he simpliﬁed the philosophical question to reﬂect the daily experience of his female listeners: ‘‘The soul must be the lady of the house and the ﬂesh must be the female slave, and then the household is managed well. But when the reverse is the case, and the female slave governs her lady, things go badly.’’47 Dominici 46 Bernardino da Siena, Le prediche volgari- Quaresimale Fiorentino del 1424, vol.1, ed. Ciro Cannarozzi (Pistoia 1934), p. 321: Pognamo della donna che non poteva avere ﬁgliuoli, ito el marito di fuori, fatto vista d’essere gravida, cresciuto el corpo con bambagia o con altro, poi al tempo debito, tolto uno fanciuollo da qualche povera femmina e tenutolo per suo e datolo per suo al marito. Vedi peccato ch’ella fa a rubare la eredità di quello uomo e a chi la doveva avere. 47 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 13, l. 33–35: Però l’anima debbe essere la

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here mingled moralizing – the need to curb the body’s inclinations – with advice on managing the household. These lessons were repeated in a sermon delivered on the ﬁrst Sunday of Lent. Lust, Dominici explained, should be subjected like a female slave.48 In another sermon, delivered on a Lent Friday, during a discussion of the importance of mercy, he presented this argument: ‘‘If you have a slave or a maid, whom you bought for ten ﬂorins, and they escape, do not wish for their death. Why? For not losing these ﬂorins.’’49 Measuring the value of Christian charity in the calculating manner of merchants and housewives, the preacher framed the matter according to the cold interest of the master and mistress of the house. Dominici perceived women to be also in charge of their children’s education. A mother had to maintain her children’s modesty and control their desires. It was her duty to teach them the basics of faith, how to say their prayers, and how to conduct themselves according to a code of moral behavior. The mother had to be especially committed to the instruction of her daughters, while the husband was more involved with the sons. She had to set an example of humility for her daughters and guide them in the path of piety. In a sermon delivered on Ash Wednesday, he condemned women who lavishly adorn their girls instead of teaching them good habits.50 In the same sermon, Dominici also chided the extravagant appearance of men, and criticized their dressing vaingloriously.The problem for men, he suggested, lay in their disturbing the social boundaries, since a man by overdressing was pretending to be of a higher status than he really was; for women the major problem with overdressing was one of immodesty.51 In a sermon delivered on the ﬁrst Sunday in Lent, he condemned the vanity of women: ‘‘You, woman, if you are fashionable [and] vain, with what misery one must say: what an example [you are] to your daughters.’’52 In a madonna et la charne ischiava et chosì essendo si governerebbe bene la chasa. Ma quando va per la contradio, che lla schiava signoreggi la donna, va male. 48 Ibid., Predica 22, l. 131: Falla stare chome schiava a ubidenza. 49 Ibid., Predica 19, l. 78–9: Se una schiava o uno schiavo che tu avessi chomperato qualche dieci ﬁorini ed egli t’oltragiassi, non gli desideresti la morte. Perché? Per non perdere que’danari. 50 Ibid., Predica 13, l. 95–6: Tu donna chon fare mazochi et segnare, lisciare, addornare le fanciulle, ad chui si chonverrebe insegnare i buoni chostumi, il bene vivere. 51 Ibid., Predica 13, l. 114–15: …che co’ vestimenti tutti adornassi il corpo per vana gloria. Né anche il contra facessi con vestimenti disutoli et honesto secondo il tuo stato… 52 Ibid., Predica 23, l. 171–2: Et tu donna, se se’ lisciarda, vana, con quante miserie si può

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Saturday sermon, he reproached: ‘‘You mother, it is up to you [to see] that your daughter lives righteously.53 Dominici’s attack on the vanity of his female listeners was in accordance with the sumptuary laws of his time, which gave formal expression to the view of women as vain and reckless spenders. These laws were common to many Italian communes, starting in the thirteenth century, and were directed against the possession of luxury items and excessive clothing and ornamentation. In the fourteenth and ﬁfteenth centuries in Florence, there were several initiatives to establish a permanent magistracy to supervise the preservation of the sumptuary laws, an example being the one established in 1427, the Uﬃciali delle donne, degli ornamenti e delle vesti.54 Dominici’s approach was typical of the period’s suspicions regarding the nature of the female sex and the popular assumptions about women’s immoderate desires.55 Yet in many of his sermons, Dominici showed a close acquaintance with and respect toward the behavior of women as mothers. In a sermon delivered on Holy Innocents’ Day, Dominici proclaimed Look at the mother who chews the bread and when it is soft, puts it in the mouth of her small child. Great mercy has this mother [that she] makes the eﬀort for her [child] and he is nourished by her. Similarly you can imagine God battling for us.56

The image is instructive in many ways; it reveals a method of feeding small children that was apparently customary – and idealized – in the preacher’s society. It also exempliﬁes the respect that Dominici felt for motherhood. In the same sermon, the preacher revealed his awareness of children’s behavior: ‘‘Look at small children when dire: che esemplo alle tue ﬁgliuole? 53 Ibid., Predica 20, 66v: A tte, madre, che tu avezzi la tua ﬁgliuola a vivere si chostumatamente. 54 On the sumptuary laws see Diane Owen Hughes, ‘‘Distinguishing Signs: Ear Rings, Jews and Franciscan Rhetoric in the Italian Renaissance City,’’ Past and Present 112 (1986), 1–59; Catherine Killerby Kovesi, ‘‘Practical Problems in the Enforcement of Italian Sumptuary Law, 1200–1500,’’ in Law, Crime and Society in Renaissance Italy, ed. Trevor Dean (London, 1994), pp. 99–120. 55 On the perceptions of women in the Renaissance see Ian Maclean, The Renaissance Notion of Women (Cambridge, 1980). 56 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 41, l. 239–241:Tu vedrai la mama biasciare il pane et poi così biasciato, il mette in bocha al fanciullino picholino. Gran merciè alla mama che dura la faticha per lui ed egli se ne notricha. Chosì t’immgina Iddio glorioso conbatte per noi.

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they see shining objects, they cry out: ‘Father, father!’ ’’57 Even under the age of two, they begin to spend money and buy small things. In the same way God begins by ‘‘buying’’ small, innocent child saints and later ‘‘buys’’ apostles and martyrs.58 In a sermon delivered on the second Sunday in Advent, during a discussion on the relationship between the soul and the body, Dominici reminded his listeners of when they were small children and used to ask where the angels were.59 In all these instances, Dominici showed his attentiveness to the behavior of mothers and small children and his interest in their daily conduct. But even in their role as mothers, women, he warned, should remain reserved and not give in to an exaggerated love for their children. In a sermon delivered on the ﬁrst Sunday of Advent, Dominici condemned those who sinned by being too involved with their children.60 In another sermon, delivered on a Passion Friday, Dominici criticized parents for their too liberal treatment of their children. Children that can hardly speak, he scolded, use bad language, and their parents, instead of reproaching them, appear not to notice or even laugh in response, thus corrupting those children.61 In another sermon, delivered on a Sunday following Pentecost, Dominici set out his educational principles and his views on child rearing: I tell you that in [the concept of a child] there are three ills. The ﬁrst is that he is loved too much and because of that he is not punished enough. You see a lot of this illness today. The fathers [and] mothers do not teach or instruct their children, but let them do or tell them to do or say evil things, and pretend not to see, or hear about these deeds. And in this way these deeds grow, as you can see. The second illness in these children is an abundance of many delights, giving them lots of leisure, brushing and combing them well, sending them out well dressed, putting 57 Ibid., Predica 41, l. 283–5: Come sono i fanciulli di novità parevano loro cose belle. Et che gridavano? Babo, babo. 58 Ibid., Predica 41, l. 53–9: Fanciullino nato d’ in meno di due anni, fa come i fanciullini. Sa’ tu quando i fanciulli picholino cominciano a spendere, a comperare, vanno col danaio? Sempre da prima cose picoline Chosì questo glorioso Iddio ogi nato secondo l’umanità, pensa picholino, compera questi gloriosi benedetti picholini sancti innocenti…poi, comperà apostoli, martyri… 59 Ibid., Predica 4, 53–5: Quando tu eri piccholo fanciullo et dicessi questa anima a essere dove il corpo, dove l’angnolo che techo? 60 Ibid., Predica 3, l. 63–4: Un’altra brigata addormentata… in ﬁgliuoli… 61 Ibid., Predica 30, l. 75–8: Diciamo pegio: i fanciulli, che apena sapiano favellare, vogliamo dire più llà, sentiti da’ padri et alle madri dolorose et ridendo et monstrando non churarsi per non gli ispaventare in tanto obrobievole pechato, gli corronpanno.

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into them all the eﬀort possible… The third illness is blindness… Everything [the children] do, [the parents] pretend not to see, but praise them and teach them only what they think would please [the children]. It is an illness.62

Dominici, then, condemned his contemporaries for spoiling their children; he demanded strict discipline. In his domestic guide to the Florentine noblewoman, he advised that she should punish her children frequently, spank them constantly from the age of seven, and not allow them too many delights and embellishments, too much rest or attention.63 Widows and Prostitutes A kind of woman requiring special assistance was the widow. The age gap between young brides and their much older partners created a situation where a large number of women – one out of four in Florence – became a widow at an early age.64 Dominici tried to guide them in their daily life, considering it his task to act as a mentor for these helpless women.65 The care that he and some other preachers devoted to widows was unusual in a society that generally ignored them but in line with the tradition of the Church, which numbered widows among the personae miserabiles entrusted to its protection. In a Palm Sunday sermon, Dominici included widows among those deserving of mercy and numbered them with ’’the young and the poor.’’66 He also discussed the legal problem of the 62 Ibid., Predica 44, l. 37–47: Ti che in questo nome avea anchora tre inﬁrmità. La prima che è troppo amato, e però nonn è bene gastigato. Et quante vedi oggi di questa inﬁrmità. I padri, le madri non che insegnino o amaestrino i loro ﬁgliuoli, ma vedranno o diranno loro fare o dire male et faranno vista di non vedergli o udirgli. Et con questi comportamenti chreschono fatti chome tu ti vedi. La seconda inﬁrmità in questi ﬁgliuoli è una habondanza di troppi diletti, dare loro assai riposi. Et bene pinzargli et pettinargli, mandargli bene adorni, tanto fastidio che pute… La terza è una ciechità… Et ogni cosa che faranno, non tanto facciano vista non vedere, ma loderanno et insegneranno loro pure che chredano loro compiaciere et però inferma. 63 Giovanni Dominici, Regola del governo di cura familare, ed. Piero Bargellini (Florence, 1927), pp. 112–13. 64 Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, pp. 214–22. 65 Some preachers devoted entire sermons to the guidance of widows. See for example, Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari- Firenze 1425, vol. 2, Predica : Della vedova di Dio; Bernardino da Siena, Prediche volgari sul Campo di Siena 1427, vol. 1, ed. Carlo Delcorno (Milan, 1989), Predica : Come si debbano onorare le vere vedove. 66 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 6, l. 61: Vedi tu che ssia guardato o difeso

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remarriage of widows. In a sermon delivered on the ﬁrst Sunday of Lent, he maintained that a woman should not marry within a year after the death of her husband so as not to get a bad reputation. An additional reason was that if she was pregnant, there might be diﬃculty in determining the child’s father, since pregnancy (luckily only in the view of medieval theologians) could last seven, nine, or even twelve months. He also emphasized that an entire year after the death of the husband should be a year of sorrow, not of parties. If the woman did remarry with the approval of her father, he said, her name would not be blemished. However, if her husband had left her a thousand ﬂorins inheritance and the woman married within a year of his death, she would forfeit the money he had left her. Dominici was voicing here the standard belief that the remarriage of widows exhibited a lack of sexual restraint, but that the law permitted it conditionally.67 Dominici had little to say about prostitutes, who had become a central element in Florentine society. At the beginning of the ﬁfteenth century, prostitution became an accepted occupation, and prostitutes were viewed as providing a necessary service to the public.68 In 1403, a magistracy entitled Uﬃciali dell’onestà was established to supervise prostitution; it was meant to construct public brothels, recruit and license prostitutes and pimps, regulate their activities, supervise their prices, and judge criminal cases involving them.69 Dominici has very little to say about these developments; but in one sermon, delivered on a Passion Friday, he refers to the donne puttane as a natural part of the community without giving

niuno men possente, vedova, pupilli, orfani, poveri, debili, prelati... On the condition of widows see Herlihy and Klapisch-Zuber, pp. 214–22. 67 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 23, l. 75–88: La leggie civile à fatti così, dicie: ‘‘Che qualunque donna rimane vedova, s’ella si marita innanzi che passi l’anno, si presume essere di mala fama.’’ E questo è per tutto il mondo. E questo è però ché potrebe rimaritarsi sì tosto che potrebe intervenire che rimanendo grossa, sarebe incerto di cui fusse la creatura. E questo però ché, quantunque l’ordine sia portare la creatura nove mesi, cioè l’umana così, può intervenire talora di sette et tale di dodici, siché levare il dubio è buono. E apresso però ché quell’ano è tempo di pianto et non di festa. Poi forma un altro caso contro alla regola et dicie: egli è una donna che à padre ed essendo maritata. Muore il marito, ella rimane vedova et per se stesso innanzi l’anno si rimarita. Il padre poi ratiﬁcha et consente a cciò che lla ﬁgliuola à fatto. Non vuole la leggie sia di mala fama. Et più vuole ancora la leggie che se ‘l tuo marito ti lasciasse mille ﬁorini o ciò che ssi volesse et tu in fra l’anno ti rimaritassi, vuole che perdi quello così fatto lasciò t’à fatto. See also Brundage, pp. 514–20. 68 On the legislation regarding prostitutes see Brundage, pp. 487–550. 69 On prostitutes in Florence see Serena-Maria Mazzi, Prostitute e lenoni nella Firenze del Quattrocento (Milan, 1991).

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them detailed treatment.70 By ignoring the matter the preacher was implicitly following the position of the Church, which permitted prostitution. Augustine considered prostitution a solution for male sexual impulses and preferable to adultery or homosexuality. This attitude became the norm, and as a consequence preachers such as Giordano da Pisa, who was active in Florence a century before Dominici, moralized that prostitution was less reprehensible than other moral oﬀenses.71 Another problem, one usually discussed in connection with women’s immorality, was sodomy, an issue of heated controversy in Dominici’s Florence. Literary and artistic sources suggest that sodomy was widespread in Renaissance Florence.72 Yet ecclesiastical and secular authorities opposed it out of religious and worldly concerns. Sodomy was seen as a threat to the stability and continuation of society, as well as a sin that provoked the wrath of God against the community. Attempts to create a magistracy to persecute the sodomites led to one being established in 1432.73 In the ﬁfteenth century the term ‘‘sodomy’’ was used primarily – though not exclusively –to refer to homosexual behavior. Dominici’s usage of the term was limited and vague, but he usually associated it with males, as when referring to ‘‘the boys drawn to sodomy’’ or to ‘‘a sodomite father.’’74 In an Ash Wednesday sermon, Dominici argued that ﬁre and sulfur punished the sin of sodomy in Sodom and Gomorrah. In one delivered on a Pentecost Tuesday, he demanded that all sodomites be burnt.75 In a further sermon, delivered on Passion Friday, he claimed that sodomy was a common practice of the Florentines and that the city was a center of ‘‘thieves, swindlers, sodomites, and

70 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 30, l. 347–8: Mandi la città, le chastelle, le ville a sacho, le donne puttane, e lle vergine, le famiglie mendicando per llo mondo? 71 On the views of the Church on prostitutes, see Mazzi, pp. 60–85. 72 On the diﬀusion of sodomy in Renaissance Florence see Michael Rocke, Forbidden Friendships: Homosexuality and Male Culture in Renaissance Florence (Oxford, 1996), pp. 3–19. 73 On general attitudes toward sodomy see Brundage, pp. 417–86, 491–5. 74 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 3, l. 85–86: A pigliare i garzoni al maladetto peccato della sodomia’’; Predica 23, l. 170: ‘‘Se tu see’ soddomito... On the terminology and the exact meaning of the term ‘‘sodomy’’ in the period see Rocke, pp. 10–16. 75 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 13, l. 149–50: Quando punisti per fuocho et zolfo il maladetto vitio della soddomia et va ischorrendo; Predica 47, 62r: Chi è soddomita- il fuocho!

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curses.’’ He implored its citizens to change their behavior: ‘‘If you are a Florentine, you know that you should ﬁght for your homeland and not rob the commune, not engage in usury and not become a sodomite.’’76 In general, it seems that sodomy was treated more as a somewhat conventional vice. In a sermon delivered on the ﬁrst Sunday of Advent, Dominici observed that ‘‘boys are attracted to the cursed vice of sodomy as they are drawn to gluttony, but we will say no more about it, although there is much to say if you want to describe that sin among the Florentines.’’77 Dominici’s unease about discussing sodomy in public was patent; he avoided doing so by saying, for example, ‘‘On this we will say no more.’’ He blamed parents for the sodomy of their youngsters: the father for setting a bad example to his son, the mother for dressing and adorning him like a girl. In a Lent Sunday sermon, Dominici upbraided a father: ‘‘If you are a glutton and a swindler, ambitious when you chase power to rule, if you are a sodomite, what an example do you leave for your son?’’78 On a Tuesday in Pentecost, he mocked mothers who were crying over their sodomite boys, when they, in fact, had made them such. They beautiﬁed their little sons to the extent that one could not distinguish them from girls, and the sons then grew up to become sodomites.79 Listeners and Spectators A ﬁnal intriguing issue is the interrelation between the preacher as performer and women as audience.80 Many of Dominici’s sermons 76 Ibid., Predica 30, l. 346: La città di ladri, di barattieri, di soddomiti, di bestemiattori…; Predica 13, l. 276: Se fossi ﬁorentino, sai bene se’ tenuto pugnare pella patria et none rubare il comune, non usuraio, non soddomito. 77 Ibid., Predica 3, l. 85–6: Eccegli altro che stia a pigliare i garzoni al maladetto peccato della sodomia, che lla gola non ne diciamo più, che troppo ci arebbe a dire volendo exprimere questo pechato sopra ﬁorentini. 78 Ibid., Predica 23, l. 170: Se tu sse’ ghiottone o barattiere, ambizioso di cierchare stato per tirannegiare, soddomito et che exemplo, che chorrezione puoi tu dare a tuoi ﬁgliuoli o a tuoi prossimi? 79 Ibid., Predica 47, 157v–158r: Il maladetto peccato della soddomia tanto trascorso. Et nota che lle femine piangono… Se tu pensi bene grande parte di questo peccato et miseria e proceduto da lloro. Però ché chome la femina à il fanciullo mascio, tutto il suo studio non è in altro che in adornarlo, pulillo et non meno, ma più in studio di vanità. Usano a maschi che alle femine: pettinagli, puligli, disonesti vestiri in forma che creschono…Non si cognoscie il maschio dalla femina. 80 For an interesting study, based on the visual evidence, discussing the presence of women at sermons preached in Florence and in Siena in the fourteenth and ﬁfteenth

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contain direct appeals to the women present at the preaching event. Phrases such as ‘‘You, mother’’ or ‘‘You woman,’’ abound; and at times he emphasized that he is referring not just to the men in his audience but equally to the women.81 Dominici’s sermons were based mainly on a one-sided conversation with his female listeners. But sometimes there is evidence of a more mutual relationship, as in a sermon delivered on the Holy Innocents’ Day in Santa Maria Novella in Florence: I think that I will preach the quaresimale [the cycle of sermons during Lent] here some year, God willing, and I tell you that if these rascals and girls do not change their ways, I’m not inclined to mount the pulpit on any Sunday or other holiday after eating. I would not preach before them since their reunion in the Church of God would cause disgust and shock. They had better not come. I would not want you to think that I would prefer that the pretty girls should not come to the sermon, because God does not wish them to go to hell; but they must come as one should come to Church, modest and without make-up, so they do not put themselves in the beaks of vultures. And whoever does not want to do so, but wants to dress up and adorn herself with cosmetics so everyone should see her, must be where she would not oﬀend the Lord, meaning in the squares, at parties, at weddings, but not in the house of the Lord, in the Church of God, where she should only praise him. 82

The passage deﬁnes the preacher as a draftsman producing his plans before his clients and demanding certain conditions for rendering his services. He emphasizes his importance as the one in charge of the souls of his listeners, one who saves them from the ﬂames of hell. There is also a threat directed against those who ignore his instructions. Dominici underlines the gap between the becenturies see Adrian Randolph, ‘‘Regarding Women in Sacred Space,’’ in Picturing Women in Renaissance and Baroque Italy, ed. Geraldine A. Johnson and Sara F. Matthews Grieco (Cambridge, 1997), pp. 17–41. 81 Giovanni Dominici, Ricc. 1301, Predica 20, 66v: ‘‘A tte madre’’; Predica 23, l. 171: ‘‘Et tu donne’’; l. 165–6: et così alle donne come agli uomeni. 82 Ibid., Predica 41, l. 179–90: I’ penso avere a predicare qui un anno, se piacierà a Dio, la quaresima. Et dicovi, che se queste vaghegine at vaghegiatori non mutono modi, che disposto sono di non salire in pergamo niuna domenica o dì di festa dopo disinare: innanzi non predicare ch’essere cagione di ragunare nella chiesa di Dio tanto fastidio quanto è questo di tanta abominazione. Faranno bene a non ci venire. Non però chi voglia che tu chredi che io achomiati che lle belle fanciulle non venghino alla predica: non piacia Dio vogli elle ne vadano in inferno, ma veghino come si conviene andare alla chiesa, honeste et sanza tante frasche. Et ponghinsi in luogho che lle non sieno in becho agli avoltoi che vanno dirietro alla carogna. Et chi non vuole così fare et vuolsi lisciare et adornare con frasche et farsi vedere, stia colà dove almeno none oﬀenda tanto Idio, alle piazze, a’ convinti, alle nozze et none nella casa di Dio, cioè nella chiesa di Dio, colà dove altro non si dee fare che adorare, lodare et ringraziare lui.

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lievers, whom he addresses as ‘‘you,’’ and the ‘‘rascals and maids,’’ – those who have distanced themselves from the community of the faithful–to whom he refers in the third person. The passage reﬂects the entertainment element of the sermon, to which one comes to listen on Sundays and holidays ‘‘after eating,’’ to see and be seen. It appears that many women attended Dominici’s sermons on Sundays and holidays, and it infuriated the preacher that the preaching event tended to become a social gathering and fashion show. He felt, however, responsible for the salvation of the souls of these pretty young women and invited them to attend his sermons and receive his blessing, after fulﬁlling certain conditions of modesty. Conclusions Close examination of Giovanni Dominici’s sermons reveals a complex picture of his relationship with his female listeners. On the one hand, he held misogynist perceptions, and condemned the vanity and corrupted nature of women; on the other, in contrast with the usual custom of his time, he addressed women directly and was concerned with their daily problems. His intimate knowledge of child-feeding methods and female cosmetics are just two examples of his familiarity with women’s daily lives. The preacher had an impact in guiding women’s lives, while they inﬂuenced the language and images he used. The relationship between performer and audience is always a reciprocal one, and male preachers and female listeners in Florence were no exception. Select Bibliography Bériou, Nicole and David. L. d’Avray, eds., Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons: Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, Biblioteca del Medioevo Latino 11 (Spoleto, 1994). Bornstein, Daniel, ‘‘Le donne di Giovanni Dominici: Un caso nella recezione e trasmissione dei messaggi religiosi,’’ Studi medievali 3–36:1 (1995), 355–61. Bornstein, Daniel and Roberto Rusconi, eds., Women and Religion in Medieval and Renaissance Italy (Chicago, 1996). Casagrande, Carla, ed., Prediche alle donne del secolo : Testi di Umberto da

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Romans, Gilberto da Tournai, Stefano di Borbone (Milan, 1978). Gill, Katherine, ‘‘Women and the Production of Religious Literature in the Vernacular 1300–1500,’’ in Creative Women in Medieval and Early Modern Italy, ed. E.A. Matter and John Coakley (Philadelphia, 1994), pp. 64–104. Herlihy, David, Medieval Households (Cambridge MA, 1985). Kienzle, Beverly Mayne and Pamela J. Walker, eds., Women Preachers and Prophets through Two Millennia of Christianity (Berkeley, 1998). Muessig, Carolyn, The Faces of Women in the Sermons of Jacques de Vitry (Toronto, 1999). Paton, Bernadette, Preaching Friars and the Civic Ethos: Siena 1380–1480 (London, 1992). Tomas, Natalie, ‘A Positive Reality’: Women and Public Life in Renaissance Florence (Victoria, Australia, 1992), pp. 35–57.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AUDIENCE AND PREACHER: AD STATUS SERMONS AND SOCIAL CLASSIFICATION Carolyn Muessig (University of Bristol) The majority of medieval sermon collections are based on the liturgical calendar.1 However, there is another type of sermon collection which is not: such collections contain sermones ad status which provided the medieval preacher with model sermons to be directed to particular types of audiences. There are hundreds of extant liturgical sermon collections, but there are only ﬁve ad status collections: two minor ones from the twelfth century by Honorius Augustodunensis2 and Alan of Lille3, and three major thirteenth-century collections by Jacques de Vitry (†1240)4, Humbert de Romans (†1277)5, and Guibert de Tournai (†1284).6 Scholars have viewed sermones ad status as invaluable in regard to what they tell us about particular social practices such as marriage 1

See Nicole Bériou, ‘‘Les Sermons Latins après 1200,’’ inThe Sermon,Typologie des source du moyen âge 81–83, ed. Beverly M. Kienzle (Turnhout, 2000), pp. 363–447, at 391. 2 Honorius Augustodunensis, ‘‘Sermo generalis’’ in Speculum ecclesiae, Patrologia Latina 172 (Paris, 1895), pp. 813–1108, at 861–70. Patrologia Latina henceforth will be referred to as PL. 3 Alan of Lille, Summa de arte praedicatoria, PL 210 (Paris, 1855), at pp. 184–98. 4 Jean Longère is in the process of editing the sermones ad status for the Corpus Christianorum, Series Latina-Continuatio Mediaevalis (Turnhout). There are several sermons from this collection which have been edited. The most comprehensive edition, although it is only partial, is in Jean-Baptiste Pitra, Analecta novissima spicilegii Solesmensis. Altera continuatio  Tusculana (1888; rpr. Farnborough [UK], 1967), pp. 189–93; 344–461 [Henceforth this will be referred to as Jacques de Vitry, Sermones ad status.] 5 The ad status sermons are found in Humbert de Romans, De eruditione praedicatorum, in Bibliotheca maxima veterum patrum 25 (Lyon, 1677), pp. 424–567, at 456–506. 6 Two early editions of Guibert de Tournai’s Sermones ad status were printed in Lyon, 1511, and Paris, 1513. The most frequently used manuscript is Paris, Bibliothèque nationale, lat. 15943. For further information concerning early editions of this work, see Baudouin d’Amsterdam, ‘‘Guibert de Tournai,’’ in Dictionnaire de spiritualité 6 (Paris, 1967), pp. 1139–46, especially 1142.

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and childhood.7 To ascertain the identity of the preacher and the audience is not always straightforward. Sometimes we know the audience and not the preacher. For example, a sermon collection found in Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France lat. 16481, contains sermons which indicate explicitly from their outset that they were preached to beguines in the beguinage of Paris between 1272–73. In this case the audience is identiﬁed, and also the place, and the year; but some of these sermons are anonymous.8 More commonly, however, we know the name of the preacher but have no clue who the intended audience was. Specialists in medieval sermons are eager to identify the preacher and the audience because with a deﬁnite ‘‘who’’ for both preacher and audience, it is easier to answer ‘‘why’’ the sermon was preached in the ﬁrst place. Nonetheless, in sermon studies often the most diﬃcult element to establish is ‘‘who’’ the intended audience was, as there is usually no audience indication at the start of sermons. But ad status sermons identify the composition of the audience from the outset. Each status, that is, ‘‘order’’ or ‘‘estate’’ is listed at the beginning of a sermon, so we know for certain that a particular sermon was directed to either lawyers, farmers, or virgins, to name just a few examples. In regard to the understanding of the term ‘‘estate’’, scholars have argued that it did not mean ‘‘class’’. Rather than having a class-consciousness the medieval mind was more prone to divide people into types or categories. The best known types or estates are the oratores, bellatores, and laboratores, those who pray, those who ﬁght, those who work.9 7 See David L. d’Avray and M.Tausche, ‘‘Marriage Sermons in ad status collections of the Central Middle Ages,’’ in Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons: Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, Bibliotheca di Medioevo Latino 11, ed. Nicole Bériou and David L. d’Avray (Spoleto, 1994), pp. 77–134. See also Jenny Swanson, ‘‘Childhood and childrearing in ad status sermons by later thirteenth century friars,’’ Journal of Medieval History 16 (1990), 309–33. In this article Swanson also groups John of Wales’s Communiloquium as an ad status sermon collection. D’Avray states that the classiﬁcation of the Communiloquium as a sermones ad status collection is not clear cut. See David L. d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars. Sermons diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985), p. 127, note 4. See also Louis-Jacques Bataillon, La prédication au ème siècle en France en Italie. Études et documents. Variorum Collected Studies Series (Aldershot, 1993). 8 Nicole Bériou, ‘‘La prédication au béguinage de Paris pendant l’année liturgique 1272–73,’’ Recherches Augustiniennes 13 (1978), 105–229. 9 But as Giles Constable has pointed out, this often repeated tripartite division overshadows the fact that there were other ways of dividing society, the most common divisions being: cleric, monk, and laymen (married, widowed, and virgins). Giles Con-

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In the following sections, the sermons of Honorius Augustodunensis, Jacques de Vitry, and Humbert de Romans will be analysed in order to ascertain how and why they classiﬁed their audiences into estates.10 Honorius Augustodunensis The author of one of the minor ad status collections is the twelfthcentury thinker Honorius Augustodunensis. Honorius is best known for being unknown. His real name and identity have eluded medievalists. The preface of one of his numerous works, the Elucidarius, indicates why he wanted to remain anonymous: Moreover, I decided to conceal my name, for fear that destructive envy might bid its devotees scorn and neglect a useful work. May the reader, however, pray that it be recorded in heaven, and never be expunged form the book of life.11

Without getting into the slippery slope of discussing the possible identities of Honorius, I will underline some details upon which academics generally agree. First, he lived sometime between 1080–1153. He studied during the early part of his career in England, most likely in Canterbury and under Anselm of Canterbury. He moved to southern Germany and established his religious career near Regensburg. The most tantalizing bit of information that Honorius provides about himself is in his De luminaribus ecclesiae where he describes himself as ‘‘Honorius priest and teacher of the

stable, Three Studies in Medieval Religious and Social Thought: The Interpretation of Mary and Martha. The Ideal of the Imitation of Christ. The Orders of Society (Cambridge, 1995), p. 252. As Alexander Murray has argued: ‘‘Beliefs, credulities, enthusiasms, hostilities, and vices, all were often said to be common to diﬀerent social classes-often enough, that is, to obstruct any general, neat equation between class and religious allegiance.’’ Alexander Murray, Reason and Society in the Middle Ages (Oxford, 1985), p. 17. 10 I am working on another study which examines these elements in the sermons of Alan of Lille and Guibert de Tournai. However, due to space constraints they will not be discussed here. 11 Prologue to the Elucidarius translated and cited in Honorius Augustodunensis,The Seal of Blessed Mary, trans. Amelia Carr (Toronto, 1991), p. 5. The original is found in Honorius Augustodunensis, Elucidarius, PL 172, pp. 1109–76 at 1110A.

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church of Augsburg.’’12 He proceeds to list twenty-two works he wrote and then ﬁnishes with this revealing statement about himself: ‘‘He ﬂourished under Henry .’’13 This is Henry  of Germany who reigned from 1106–25. Although we cannot ascertain the exact identity of Honorius, we can place him among a group of religious who ﬂourished in the ﬁrst half of the twelfth century. These religious were Benedictine monks who were also priests. The tenor of Honorius’s various works place him in the school of thought of Rupert of Deutz (†1129).14 Rupert and other black monks defended ‘Old Benedictinism’ in the face of new monasticism and the rise of the Augustinian canons. Rupert of Deutz in particular was most articulate on the subject of ‘‘Old Benedictinism’’. This manifested itself in his defence of the Benedictine’s right to preach, baptize and say public mass, provided that the monk was an ordained priest. Rupert believed that monkpriests and secular clerics were one and the same in regard to their service at the altar.15 Evidently, the atmosphere in which Honorius wrote in was one of debate regarding the place of the monk in pastoral care.16 The eleventh and twelfth centuries witnessed an increase in devotion on the part of religious to become more involved in the care of souls. Consequently, these centuries also witnessed the development of a controversy between monks and clerics over who had the right to the cura animarum. Some, usually the clerics, argued that it was the job of the priest alone and not of monks – even if they were also priests – to be involved with pastoral care. Clerics argued that a monk who also happened to be a priest was excluded form a pastoral role owing to his monastic profession. Harkening back to Jerome, clerics argued that the monastic profession made monks 12 Translated in Honorius Augustodunensis,The Seal of Blessed Mary, 6.The original is found in Honorius Augustodunensis, De luminaribus ecclesiae, PL 172, pp. 197–234 at 232B. 13 Translated in Honorius Augustodunensis,The Seal of Blessed Mary, 6.The original is found in Honorius Augustodunensis, De luminaribus ecclesiae, PL 172, pp. 197–234 at 234A. 14 See Valerie I.J. Flint, ‘‘The Place and Purpose of the Works of Honorius Augustodunensis,’’ Revue bénédictine 87 (1977), 97–127 at 101. 15 John Van Engen, Rupert of Deutz (Berkeley, 1983), p. 328. Rupert also defended lush liturgical ornamentation, something to which the reforming Cistercians objected. 16 Giles Constable, The Reformation of the Twelfth Century (Cambridge, 1996), pp. 227–29.

‘ ’    

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worthy of weeping, but not teaching. Gratian’s Decretum encapsulates this sentiment: [A monk] is happy in his cloister since, just as a ﬁsh out of water cannot survive, so too a monk outside of his monastery cannot survive. Therefore, a solitary should remain still and keep silent although he is dead to the world, he nevertheless lives for God.17

Honorius like Rupert of Deutz thought diﬀerently on this issue. In one of his later works, the treatise Utrum monachis liceat praedicare, he argues that a monk who is a priest has the right by virtue of his sacerdotal oﬃce to preach, although according to his monastic profession, he may weep. Moreover, Honorius argued that the monk, because of his ascetic monastic profession, was superior to the secular clergy. Due to his asceticism, Honorius saw the monk-priest as not only having the right to celebrate mass, preach, baptize, and carry out other pastoral duties, but also as being virtuously superior to priests who were not monks. 18 The Sermo Generalis Honorius’s Speculum ecclesiae is a model sermon collection which contains homilies for major feasts such as Christmas and Easter, saints’ days, such as that of John the Baptist, and liturgical events, like the dedication of churches.19 The Prologue indicates that the monks of Canterbury asked Honorius to write the Speculum for their use.20 17 For the Latin see Corpus iuris canonici, a, Decretum Magistri Gratiani, ed. Emil Friedberg (1879; repr. Graz, 1959), Causa 16, cap. 8, 763. 18 Honorius Augustodunensis, ‘‘Quod monachis liceat predicare,’’ in Joseph Enders, Honorius Augustodunensis Beitrag zur Geschichte des geistigen Lebens im 12 Jahrhundert (Kempten, 1906), pp. 147–50 at 148: Habet quippe ex professione oﬃcium lugentis, ex ordine uero sacerdotali oﬃcium docentis. Using the example of Gregory the Great as a monk and great ecclesiastical leader who sent out the monk Augustine to evangelize England, Honorius underlines the strengths of the combination of the monk-priest: Similiter gregorius professione monachus, oﬃcio apostolicus, habitu et actu ostendit oﬃcium lugentis, multis scriptis et doctrinis nunc clam nunc palam oﬃcium docentis. Qui etiam augustinum monachum cum aliis religiosis in angliam docendi gratia misit, qui per oﬃcium docentis totam angliam ad christi cultum conuerterunt… cui per oﬃcium lugentis exemplum bone operationis prebuerunt. 19 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, PL 172 (Paris, 1895), pp. 813–1108. 20 The monks make the following request: Cum proxime in nostro conventu resideres, et verbum fratibus secundum datam tibi a Domino sapientiam faceres, omnibus qui aderant visum est non te sed angelum Dei fuisse locutum. Unde et plurimi ex fratibus, de verbis tuis compuncti; multum jam

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However, Honorius indicates that the Speculum is for priests.21 It should not be surprising that Honorius used the term ‘‘priest’’ and not ‘‘monk’’. The Speculum was a book concerned with the cura animarum, hence Honorius appealed to the sacerdotal authority of the users of the Speculum, whether they be priests or monk-priests. The Speculum contains an ad status sermon which is entitled the Sermo generalis. This sermon has eight diﬀerent sections: to priests, to judges, to the rich, to the poor, to soldiers, to merchants, to farmers, and to the married. At the beginning of the sermon, Honorius tells the preachers that they should use this sermon throughout the year. He also gives some guidance on how the preacher should present himself when he sermonizes: When you give a sermon you should not stretch out your hand just as if you are hurling words in the audience’s face, nor should you close your eyes or stare at the ground, or stand with a stupid look on your face, nor should you move your head like an insane person, or contort your mouth in diﬀerent ways; but just as rhetoric instructs us, speak with appropriate gestures, and formulate your words orderly and humbly; when you talk about sad things speak with sadness; when you talk about cheerful things speak with joy; when you speak about hardships, speak with severity, when you talk about humbleness speak with restraint.22

The sermon takes up only ten columns in the Patrologia Latina.23 Nonetheless, it is signiﬁcant in the development of Latin ad status sermons.24 proﬁciunt in timore Domini. Quamobrem te rogamus obnixe ut velis aliqua hujuscemodi ad multorum aediﬁcationem stylo proferre, quatenus tot hominum meritis et precibus juveris in exremis, quot legendo vel audiendo in melius profecerunt ex tuis loquelis, Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, pp. 813–14. Moreover, Valerie Flint has noted that some medieval manuscripts of the Speculum ecclesiae provide the following heading ‘‘fratres Cantuariensis ecclesiae.’’ See Valerie I.J. Flint, ‘‘The Chronology of the Works of Honorius Augustodunensis,’’ Revue bénédictine 82 (1972), 215–42, at 221. 21 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, pp. 815–16: Hoc igitur speculum omnes sacerdotes ante oculos Ecclesiae expendant, ut sponsa Christi in eo videat quid adhuc Sponso suo in se displiceat, et ad imaginem suam mores et actus suos componat. 22 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, pp. 861–62: Hunc sermonem debes in anno saepe repetere, saepe aliquod membrum de eo tuis sermonibus intexere. Cum autem sermonem facis, non debes protenta manu quasi verba in faciem populi jaculare, nec clausis oculis vel in terram ﬁxis, aut supino vultu stare; nec caput ut insanus movere, vel os in diversa contorquere; sed, ut rhetorica instruit, decenti gestu pronunciare, verba composite et humiliter formare, tristia tristi voce, laeta hylari, dura acri, humilia suppressa proferre. 23 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, pp. 861–70. 24 However, it should be noted that Pope Gregory the Great (†604) in his Pastoral Care addressed the issue of diverse audiences regarding preaching. The third part of

‘ ’    

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Honorius does not explicitly use the term ‘‘status’’ or ‘‘ordo’’, but he does refer to a diversity of audience: Today’s sermon most dear brethren all of you should listen to very carefully because today, I will tell you – you who are rich and you who are the Lord’s poor, and you who are servants, you who are husbands and wives – how you can obtain eternal life.25

In the eleventh and twelfth centuries the predilection to categorize social groupings became more prevalent. Concurrently with this tendency to categorize came also the tendency for some Christians to object to the occurrence of ordines that overlapped such as military orders, lay brothers,26 and what I have alluded to as monkpriests. The twelfth-century regular canon Philip of Harvengt (†1183) captured this uncomfortable outlook on status mixture: It is good for a man to know the order in which he is constituted and its limit or boundary so that he may neither insolently exceed the clear boundaries nor weakly shrink from them.27

The other sections in Honorius’s sermon deﬁne the audience in relation to its support of the Church. For instance in the section directed to the rich, Honorius indicates what the wealthy should do: Your should adorn churches with books, altar cloths, and other ornaments; you should repair faults and ruins; you should increase the prebends of God’s servants, through this you procure their prayers; you should build bridges and streets, through this you prepare your own street to heaven. You should oﬀer hospices, food and clothing to the poor, to the needy and to pilgrims, through this you buy for yourself eternal riches.28

Gregory’s work dealt with how the preacher should talk to his various audiences. But, Gregory’s division by and large was not by estates or order, but by moral characteristics. For instance the audience he mentioned consisted of the joyful and sorrowful, the patient and impatient, the humble and the haughty. Gregory the Great, Pastoral Care, trans. Henry Davis (Westminster, Maryland, 1950), p. 4. 25 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, 861C: Hodiernum sermonem, fratres karissimi, debetis omnes intentissima aure percipere, quia hodie dicturus sum vobis quomodo divites vel pauperes Domini, vel servi, viri vel mulieres, ad gaudia aeterna possitis pertingere. 26 Constable, Three Studies in Medieval Thought, pp. 256–57. 27 For original Latin see Philip of Harvengt, De institutione clericorum, 86, PL 203 (Paris, 1855), pp. 781A/B. Translation from Constable, Three Studies in Medieval Religious and Social Thought, 1995), p. 263. 28 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, 864B: Ecclesias debetis libris, paliis [sic] et aliis ornamentis decorare, lapsas vel destructas restaurare, praebendas Deo servientium ampliare,

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What strikes the reader is Honorius’s development of the idea of the Christian community as a corporate whole. Soldiers are compared to the arms of the Church because they defend it from the enemy; the priests are the tongue of the Church because they speak for it; the farmers are the feet because they support the Church by feeding it.29 In this brief sermon Honorius provides a view of society which is an organic whole. What also emerges is that these corporate elements serve the force of the body, the Church. Honorius’s choice to use corporate metaphors to highlight the working of social order was a technique often employed in the Middle Ages.30 A theme which arises in nearly all of these sections is what each group can do to support the Church. For example Honorius tells the married the following: Now the things I am about to say, all of you ought to observe if you wish to reign with Christ. When you get up in the morning, among the ﬁrst things you should do is sign yourself with the holy cross; you should commend your soul and body to the grace of God, and before you do anything else, you should hurry to church and bring alms with you or have your serf bring alms. Give joyfully with your own hands to the poor who approach you, or who wait for you in need; the rich should give a penny, the middling a half penny, others should give bread, others clothes – whatever it is that cheers the poor.31

per hoc orationes eorum comparare, pontes et plateas aediﬁcare, per hoc vobis viam ad coelum parare; pauperibus et egenis et peregrinis hospitia, victus et vestitus necessaria praebere, per hoc vobis aeternas divicias emere. From this, it is clear that Honorius shared Rupert of Deutz’s predilection of ornamentation and not the decorative simplicity of the reforming Cistercians. 29 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, p. 865a: Vos, milites, estis brachium Ecclesia, quia debetis eam ab hostibus defendere. In regard to priests Honorius writes: Nos sacerdotes debemus linguam vestram esse, et cuncta quae in divinis oﬃciis canuntur vel leguntur vobis interpretando exponere (p. 861c). And in regard to farmers he writes: Vos quoquo, fratres et socii mei, qui agrum colitis, pedes Ecclesiae estis, quia eam pascendo portatis (p. 866a). 30 See Jeﬀrey Denten, ‘‘Introduction,’’ in Orders and Hierarchies in Late Medieval and Renaissance Europe (Toronto, 1999), p. 4. I am grateful to David Luscombe for this reference. 31 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, pp. 867d–868a: Quae nunc dicturus sum debetis omnes servare, si vultis cum Christo regnare. Cum mane surgitis, debetis vos in primis signo sanctae crucis signare, animam et corpus vestrum Dei gratia commendare, et antequam aliud agatis, ad ecclesiam festinare, elemosinam vobiscum portare aut mancipium vestrum facere portare; pauperi vobis occurenti, aut vos expectanti propriis manibus hylariter dare; dives nummum, mediocris obolum, alius panem, alius veterem vestem, et quodcunque illud est unde pauper laetiﬁcatur.

‘ ’    

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The sense that a given ordo provided a particular support for the Church is most clearly witnessed in the section to farmers: You too are my brothers and comrades, you who harvest the ﬁeld, you are the feet of the Church because you carry it by feeding it. You should obey priests, you should listen intently when they admonish you regarding the salvation of your souls, you should not exceed the boundaries of the ﬁelds in regard to ploughing and reaping, nor should you take away hay or wood except that which is in the boundary of your land. You should render faithfully a tenth of all your goods to God. Indeed the one who holds back a tithe plunders the things of God; and moreover if the farmer holds back his share which belongs to God he will lose the nine other parts which belong to him through bad weather, drought, hail, blight, plague, violence done by judges and by soldiers, ﬁre, and plundering by rogues and thieves. But all these things will not happen to you dear farmers if you render justly alms to the poor and a tithe to God’s servants.32

The tone of the sermon gives us some further insight into Honorius’s views of the priest-monk’s role in pastoral care. Honorius wrote the Sermo generalis when Cistercians and canons regularly argued that monks, clerics, and lay people should be sustained according to their order. Generally, these groups argued that monks should support themselves by manual labour, clerics should support themselves with revenues from the parish tithes which they received in their capacity to administer the sacraments and preach, and laymen should support themselves from the ‘‘manorial system of agriculture.’’33 Reformers believed that monks should not accept tithes, even if they were priests. Bernard of Clairvaux (†1153) agreed: We assert that it is safer for any Christian and above all for a monk to own less in peace than more in strife… It is for the clergy to serve the altar and to live from the altar. Our profession and the example of 32 Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, p. 866A/B: Vos quoque, fratres et socii mei, qui agrum colitis, pedes Ecclesiae estis, quia eam pascendo portatis. Sacerdotibus debetis obedire, de salute animae vestrae monentes libenter audire, terminos agrorum non arando vel metendo excedere, non fenum, non ligna nisi statutis terminis sucumbere [sic]; decimam omnium rerum vestrarum Deo ﬁdeliter reddere. Qui enim decimam retinuerit, praedam de Dei rebus facit; et si Deo partem suam rapiet, ipse ei novem auferet, nunc per tempestatem nunc per siccitatem, nunc per grandinem, nunc per uredinem, nunc per pestilentiam, nunc per judicum vel militum violentiam, nunc per ignis invasionem, nunc per furum vel latronum direptionem. Haec omnia, karissimi, a vobis avertitis si elemosinam pauperibus et decimam Deo servientibus juste redditis. 33 Giles Constable, Monastic Tithes From Their Origins to the Twelfth Century (Cambridge, 1964), p. 150.

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monks of old prescribe that we should live from our own labours and not from the sanctuary of God. Otherwise, it is hateful to wish to reap where you do not sow and it also unjust to gather what another has sown.34

As if putting the proverbial genie back in the bottle, Bernard and other reformers wanted to put monk-priests back in the cloister and out of the world. But the Sermo generalis beckons the community to maintain a Christian corporation which supports monk-priests through tithes, where individuals subsidize and adorn churches to the best of their ability, and in return ‘‘the servants of God’’ will minister to them. Honorius, as his like minded-Benedictine brothers, wanted to maintain the ‘‘Old Benedictinism’’. John Van Engen has noted that Benedictines in the early to midtwelfth century brought to fruition Benedictine intellectual and religious life in an attempt to defend their religious vocation. Benedictines such as Othloh of St Emmeram (†1070), Guibert de Nogent (†1125), Rupert of Deutz (†1129), and Peter Abelard (†1142), innovated the genre of medieval autobiographies, or as Van Engen described them, ‘‘personal apologies for their respective theological and religious careers’’.35 Honorius did not leave an autobiography to defend his Benedictinism. However, he left a corpus of literature which did the same; and like his Benedictine confrères he innovated a genre, i.e., sermon literature, in his attempt to defend his religious vocation. In his bid to keep the ‘‘Old Benedictinism’’, Honorius provides in the Sermo generalis not a liturgical lesson, but a plan of how various parts of Christian society could work together to support the Church. Émile Durkheim in the early twentieth century argued that the desire to establish a clear system of class, or ordines, or estates, indicates a desire to impose stability and order on society.36 Honorius’s Sermo generalis backs up Durkheim’s observation. In the changing world of twelfth century religious professions and their concomitant rivalries Honorius wanted to deﬁne and maintain his world. Through a presentation of corporate elements he outlined a tight 34

From Bernard of Clairvaux’s Epistle 387 as cited in Constable, Tithes, p. 144. John Van Engen, ‘‘Theophilus Presbyter and Rupert of Deutz: The Manual of Arts and Benedictine Theology in the Early Twelfth Century,’’ Viator 11 (1980), 147–63 at 162. 36 Émile Durkheim and Marcel Mauss, trans. Rodney Needham, Primitive Classiﬁcation (London, 1963). See also Constable, Three Studies, p. 251 at note 1. 35

‘ ’    

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functioning of various estates which supported his particular view of the Church. Interestingly, by deﬁning his audience, he also deﬁned himself. The nature of the ideal audience as one which supports the servants of God through tithes and alms, points to the nature of Honorius the monk-priest. So although the Sermo generalis does not shed any more light on the precise name of Honorius, the nature of its constructed audience does tell us rather emphatically who Honorius was. Can the same patterns be found in the sermones ad status of Jacques de Vitry and Humbert de Romans? Jacques de Vitry Jacques de Vitry received his theological training in Paris, most likely in Peter the Chanter’s circle. He was a defender of the beguines and persecutor of the Cathars. He was an Augustinian canon who became Bishop of Acre in the Holy Land and ultimately Cardinal Bishop of Tusculum. He wrote his ad status collection sometime between 1226 and 1240.37 These seventy-four sermons are dedicated to discussing twenty-nine diﬀerent estates. The reason why Jacques de Vitry provides this detailed classiﬁcation of Christians is alluded to in the prologue: For he who wishes to build the spiritual ediﬁce, just as it is said in Ezechiel 40, ought ‘‘to hold a measuring reed in his hand’’, so that he may measure out doctrine according to the strengths of his listeners. … Indeed, one medicine is not for everyone, nor is the doctor wise who wants to cure everyone’s eyes with one type of salve. … Moreover, often certain things hurt some people which are beneﬁcial to others, for a light whistling soothes horses but stirs up little pups.38

The emphasis is on the prescription of preaching being appropriate to the audience’s level of understanding. Jacques de Vitry does not

37 See Jean Longère, ‘‘Quatre sermons ad religiosas de Jacques de Vitry,’’ in Les religieuses en France au e siècle. Table ronde organisée par l’Institut d’Études Médiévales de l’Université de Nancy  et le C.E.R.C.O.M., 25–26 juin 1983, ed. Michel Parisse (Nancy, 1989), pp. 215–300 at 217. 38 Jacques de Vitry, Sermones ad status, p. 190: Qui enim aediﬁcium spirituale vult aediﬁcare, debet sicut in Ezechiel  dicitur, habere in manu calamum mensurae, ut doctrinam commensuret viribus auditorum… Non enim omnibus una competit medicina, nec est sapiens medicus qui uno collyrio omnium oculos vult curare, nec curat oculum qui curat calcaneum … Saepe namque alios alia oﬀendunt quae aliis prosunt: nam levis sibilus equos mitigat catulos instigat.

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provide much explicit detail of what diﬀerentiates one estate from another. He does say that the ‘‘qualitates et mores’’ of the audience must be kept in mind.39 He also says that preaching is directed at times to the great, to the middling, and to the little.40 Grouping society into threes was not uncommon in medieval thought. As mentioned earlier, the best known example of a tripartite grouping is of the oratores, bellatores, and laboratores.41 But Jacques de Vitry does not linger on a threefold division, instead he sets out to create a sermon collection which provides much greater detail for social classiﬁcation. The classiﬁcations of the groups and the number of sermons for them are as follows: Sermon 1–9 are directed to prelates and priests; 10–14 to canons and other clerics; 15–16 to scholars; 17–18 judges and advocates; 19–21 theologians and preachers; 22–23 Benedictines; 24–25 Cistercians; 30–32 to canons regular; 33–34 to hermits and recluses; 35–36 to friars minor; 37–38 to military orders; 39–40 to hospitallers; 41–42 to lepers and other sick people; 43–44 to the poor and aﬄicted; 45–46 to those in mourning; 47–48 to crusaders; 49–50 to pilgrims; 51–53 to rulers and knights; 54–55 to those who live in cities or towns; 56–59 to merchants and money-changers; 60–61 to farmers and vine dressers; 62 to artisans and other labourers; 63 to sailors and mariners; 64–65 to male and female servants; 66–68 to married people; 69–70 to the widowed and continent; 71–72 to virgins and young girls; 73–74 to boys and adolescents.42 Why does Jacques de Vitry provide so many classiﬁcations? By focusing on two sermons from the seventy-four sermons this question will be considered. Of the two sermons, one sermon is directed to scholars, the other is directed to virgins and young girls. The ﬁrst sermon under analysis is Jacques de Vitry’s second sermon to scholars based on the thema, Cum egredimini, non exibitis vacui (Exod., 3, 21).43 The sermon is not explicitly steeped in a liturgical 39 Jacques de Vitry, Sermones ad status, p. 191: Nam sicut expedit medico corporum diligenter attendere complexiones inﬁrmorum, ita necesse est ut medicus animarum cum omni circumspectione consideret et advertat qualitates et mores auditorum. 40 Jacques de Vitry, Sermones ad status, p. 191: Aliter enim praedicandum est majoribus, aliter mediocribus, aliter minoribus… 41 The classic work on this subject is Georges Duby, Les trois ordres ou l’imaginaire du féodalisme (Paris, 1978). See also A.J. Gurevich, Categories of Medieval Culture, trans. G.L. Campbell (London, 1972). 42 See Jean Longère, ‘‘Quatre sermons ad religiosas de Jacques de Vitry,’’ p. 217. 43 Jacques de Vitry, Sermones ad status, pp. 365–72.

‘ ’    

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context. Rather, the focus of the sermon captures quite candidly Jacques de Vitry’s view of the university of Paris in the ﬁrst few decades of the thirteenth century. In it we hear the voice of the moralist and reformer who looks upon the liberal arts and the Greek philosophers with suspicion. The aim of the sermon is to discourage scholars from becoming lost in secular aspects of their education. In particular Jacques de Vitry was worried about how the use of Aristotle would impact on the study of theology: From philosophers, however, we can adopt certain things which are useful for our needs. Indeed Boethius concerning the Consolation of Philosophy was completely orthodox and moral. But others have said many false and vain things, just like Plato who declared that the planets were gods, and Aristotle who propounded the dogma that the world was eternal. Therefore, those books, which they call Libri naturales, ought to be guarded against very much lest we err out of excessive inquisitiveness. For the Christian faith holds many things which are above nature or against it.44

The particular issues of the seven liberal arts and philosophy as potential sources of interference in the study of theology are at the heart of the sermon.45 Here Jacques de Vitry was aiming to establish a set of guidelines for scholars which challenged the growing inﬂuence of Aristotle and upheld a conservative pedagogic model highlighting the importance of the study of theology. The next text under consideration is Jacques de Vitry’s second sermon to young girls and virgins based on the thema: O quam pulchra est casta generatio (Wisdom 4,1). Jacques de Vitry builds his sermon explicitly on immediate historical events. Rather than speaking in general terms of the ideal of virginity, he preaches with one particular group in mind – the beguines of Brabant. Here, Jacques de Vitry argues passionately in support of the mendicant way of life 44 Jacques de Vitry, Sermones ad status, p. 367: Ex philosophis autem quaedam possumus assumere ad commodum causae. Boethius quidem de Consolatione totus catholicus est et moralis. Alii autem multa falsa et vana dixerunt, sicut Plato qui planetas deos asseruit, et Aristoteles, qui mundum aeternum fuisse dogmatizavit. Vnde in libris, quos naturales appellant, valde cavendum est, ne ex nimia inquisitione erremus. Fides enim Christiana multa quae supra naturam sunt, vel contra naturam. 45 See Stephen C. Ferruolo, The Origins of the University: The Schools of Paris and Their Critics 1100–1215 (Stanford, 1985), pp. 246–53 where he reviews this sermon in great detail. Jacques de Vitry also expresses similar concerns in a sermon which was directed to preachers. See Carolyn Muessig, ‘‘Audience and Sources in Jacques de Vitry’s «Sermones feriales et communes»,’’ in Medieval Sermons and Society: Cloister, City, University, Textes et Études du Moyen Âges 9 (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1998), pp. 183–202.

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led by the young beguines. It is well known that Jacques de Vitry was a keen supporter of the beguines as witnessed to by his close relationship with Marie of Oignies. He disparaged those who were critical of these devout lay women and lobbied the papal oﬃce to secure approval for the beguinal way of life. Jacques de Vitry’s sermon describes this way of life: And so, certain prudent and devoted virgins, when they are not able to remain in the homes of their parents among worldly and shameless people … ﬂee to convents.… But they who are not able to ﬁnd convents which can receive them, live together in one house, according to Ecclesiasticus: Birds of a feather ﬂock together (Eccl., 27, 10). And under the training of one of them who is outstanding in regard to honesty and prudence, they are instructed both in character and in letters, in vigils and in prayers, in fasts and in various aﬄictions, in labour of the hands and in poverty, in abasement and humility. We see many girls who despise the wealth of their parents and refuse noble and powerful men’s oﬀer of marriage. Living in great and pleasing poverty, they have nothing else except that which they acquire from spinning and working with their own hands, contented with mean vestments and meagre food.46

We discover in the sermon that Jacques de Vitry did not want these young holy women to be called beguines because that is the name that their detractors called them, a name whose meaning indicated a woman who feigned holiness: … worldly prelates and other malicious men, want to destroy and to remove her from her good purpose saying: ‘‘This girl wants to be a beguine.’’ (This is what they are called in Flanders and Brabant, or Papelarda just as they are called in France, or Humiliata as they say in Lombardy, or Bizoke just as they say in Italy or Coquennunne as they say in Germany.) And by deriding them thusly and so defaming them they strive to remove them from their holy purpose.47

In the sermon Jacques de Vitry addresses these detractors directly:

46 From Carolyn Muessig, The Faces of Women in the Sermons of Jacques de Vitry (Toronto, 1999), translation of the second sermon to virgins, pp. 88–93, at 91. For the Latin upon which the translation is based see Joseph Greven, ‘‘Der Ursprung des Beginenwesens,’’ Historisches Jahrbuch 35 (1914), 25–59; 291–318, sermon text at 43–58. 47 Muessig, The Faces of Women, p. 89. Based on all the terms that Jacques de Vitry provides, we can conclude that his interpretation of the term beguina meant a woman who feigned holiness. See Muessig, The Faces of Women, notes 218–22 on pp. 140–41 for further discussion.

‘ ’    

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Why are you bothering these women? What evil do they cause? Don’t they freely go to church and frequently read their Psalters? Don’t they venerate the ecclesiastical sacraments? And don’t they make confession the whole day and follow the precepts of the priests, who ‘‘are just judges and speak what they know’’ (Prov. 12:17)?48

The situation which Jacques de Vitry describes encapsulates a speciﬁc stage in the beguinal way of life which would not normally be found, or at least preached about in the latter part of the thirteenth century. First of all, by the second half of the thirteenth century the term beguine was used without any hesitation by supporters and detractors. Unlike our sermon which praises beguines for educating each other in religious devotion, later sermons warned beguines not to educate one another.49 Also rather than criticize the detractors later sermons often criticized the beguines for straying out of their beguinages and not obeying what preachers told them.50 But with Jacques de Vitry we have an example of a reformer who saw the beguine way of life as reﬂecting the mendicant ethos which was a hallmark of the vita apostolica. The thrust of the sermon is based on classifying beguines not as hypocrites but as true holy women. The sermon attempts to deﬁne the goodness of the beguines while unravelling the deﬁnition that their detractors employed. In examining the rise of the tendency for medieval thinkers to use tripartite social classiﬁcations for society, Jacques Le Goﬀ has argued: It was a conceptual image which corresponded to new social and political structures, like every conceptual tool, it did not arise merely to deﬁne, describe, and explain a new situation. It was also an instrument of social action. In the ﬁrst place, on the most obvious level of action, it was an instrument of propaganda.51

Jacques de Vitry composes these sermons as a form of ‘‘social action’’. But he abandons a tripartite division and presents a more nuanced depiction of Christian life. In the example of the sermon to beguines, he presents a religious view which allowed lay women to be similar to nuns. He saw Christian perfection in mendicant life 48

Muessig, The Faces of Women, pp. 89–90.

Muessig, The Faces of Women, pp. 104–05.

50 Muessig, The Faces of Women, pp. 103–04.

51 Jacques Le Goﬀ, Time, Work and Culture in the Middle Ages, trans. Arthur

Goldhammer (Chicago, 1977), p. 53. 49

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regardless of whether someone was lay or cleric, male or female. In essence, his message harkens back to Galatians 3, 28: ‘‘There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither bond nor free; there is neither male or female. For you are all one in Jesus Christ.’’ Jacques de Vitry’s sermones ad status attempt to bestow authority on particular groups as witnessed in the sermon to the beguines; and he also tries to limit and to clarify the boundaries of acceptable behaviour, as seen in the sermon to scholars. Although these sermons reﬂect, to some degree, the actual behaviour of the various estates, they most clearly present Jacques de Vitry’s view of how the estates should be perceived and ordered. Humbert de Romans Humbert de Romans also displays ‘‘social action’’ in his ad status sermons. Humbert de Romans is best known as master general of the Dominican order. After nine years in this position, he resigned in 1263 to return to his friary in Lyon where he wrote proliﬁcally until his death in 1277.52 Among the many works which he wrote in retirement was the De eruditione praedicatorum. The work is divided into two books. The ﬁrst book provides moral guidance for preachers and advice on how sermons should be prepared. Included in the second book are one hundred sermons for various groups. Unlike the very detailed sermons of Jacques de Vitry, these sermons are brief sketches which furnish the preachers with useful material.This should not be surprising as Dominicans were trained to develop their sermons from schematic outlines as opposed to detailed model sermons.53 Out of the one hundred sermons the ﬁrst two are directed to all Christians but the majority, that is sixty-eight of the sermons, are directed to various religious estates. The last thirty are directed to lay people. Humbert gives a rationale for why he broke down this sermon collection into so many diﬀerent classiﬁcations:

52 Marie-Humbert Vicaire, ‘‘Humbert de Romans,’’ in Dictionnaire de Spiritualité 7 (Paris, 1968), pp. 1108–1116; Edward Tracy Brett, Humbert of Romans. His Life and Views of Thirteenth-Century Society, Studies and Texts 67 (Toronto, 1984), pp. 3–11. 53 M. Michèle Mulchahey, ‘‘First the Bow is Bent in Study…’’ Dominican Education before 1350, Studies and Texts 132 (Toronto, 1998), pp. 184–93.

‘ ’    

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Regarding the material for sermons … it is noted that occasionally for many [preachers] it is more diﬃcult to ﬁnd useful and worthy material from which to make a sermon than it is to construct a sermon from the found material. And therefore, it is expedient that the preacher always have ready material for preaching or talking about God … for all kinds of people.54

Humbert spends a great deal of time deﬁning the various religious estates. For example, in regard to his sermon sketch on hermits he writes: There are found certain religious, especially in parts of Italy, who are called hermits because they ﬂee the crowds and live in the desert … and they live completely or almost completely from their labour. They do not live on their own as was once done in parts of Egypt but many live under one prelate in the same place, and in other areas only a few live together. Among other things it is ﬁtting to speak to them about solitude.55

Within a description sometimes a rationale is provided for a particular group’s existence as is seen in Humbert’s description of canonesses: It should be noted that just as once there were not only prophets, but also prophetesses as is evident … with the prophetesses Anna and Elizabeth and many others, and there were not only Apostles but Apostlesses, as it is sung about the Magdalene, and there were not only male martyrs but female martyrs, so too in the Church of God in certain areas like Germany and its environs there are not only canons, but also canonesses gathered in certain churches appointed to divine worship and coming together for divine praise in the custom of secular canons.56 54 Humbert de Romans, De eruditione praedicatorum at p. 456: Circa Materias Sermonum… nota quod interdum multis diﬃcilius est invenire Materias utiles, et laudabiles, de quibus ﬁat Sermo, quam inventa materia, de ispa sermonem contexere. Et ideo expedit quod Praedicator semper habeat in promptu Materias ad praedicandum vel conferendum de Deo … ad omne genus hominum …. 55 Humbert de Romans, De eruditione praedicatorum at p. 465: Quidam religiosi inveniuntur, et maxime in partibus Italiae qui vocantur Heremitae, eo quod fugientes turbas in heremis habitent… et ex tota, vel proxima parte viuunt de labore suo: habitant autem non singulares, vt olim in partibus Aegipti, sed multi sub uno praelatos in eodem loco, et in aliquibus locis pauci. In aliquibus autem conueniens est istis loqui de solitudine. Humbert here, and in many of the other sermon sketches, provides a few examples of sermon texts which might be appropriate for this group. 56 Humbert de Romans, De eruditione praedicatorum at pp. 483–84: Notandum quod sicut olim fuerunt non solum propehtae, sed etiam prophetisse, ut patet in … Anna phophetissa, et Elizabeth, et aliis multis, et non solum Apostali, sed et Apostolae, ut cantatur de Magdalena, et non solum viri martyres, sed ut mulieres: Ita in Ecclesia Dei in quibusdam nationibus, ut in Theutonica, et in vicinia eius non solum sunt canonici, imo et canonicae in quibusdam Ecclesiis collegiatis diuino cultui

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Unlike many liturgical sermons which transcend regional notions of place and time, Humbert’s ad status sketches are deeply rooted in historical drama. The audiences are located in earthly places like Italy or Germany. The sermons show societal diversity and how that diversity should be perceived. In Humbert’s ad status collection, as in Jacques de Vitry’s, a tripartite diversity does not suﬃce. Instead, the sermons present a kaleidoscope of estates. Why would Humbert be concerned to provide so many diﬀerent shades of Christian life? In regard to the question of the religious estates, one answer could be found in his endeavour to justify the mendicant life. Humbert as master general of the Dominican order was embroiled in the bitter debate between the secular masters of Paris and the mendicants. The mendicants and in particular the Dominicans had fallen out with the secular masters of the university of Paris for two reasons. The secular masters viewed the mendicants as interlopers in university aﬀairs. Moreover, the secular masters believed that the mendicants were infringing on their authority and the authority of parish priests in general to carry out the cura animarum. Throughout various dioceses, priests complained bitterly that the mendicants were stealing their parishioners away. The most critical spokesman against the mendicants was the secular master William of St Amour.57 William and many other churchmen believed that the mendicants, and in particular the Dominicans, had no biblical authority to follow a life of pastoral care based on mendicancy. He wrote treatises against the mendicants, his most famous being De periculos novissorum periculorum.58 For our purposes, however, I would like to turn to one of the many sermons which William of St Amour preached in Paris at the height of the debate. He preached this sermon in the mid-1250s on the feast day of the apostles James and Philip. Although he does not identify the Dominicans by

deputatae, et ad laudes diuinas more canonicorum saeculorum conuenientes. 57 For a concise overview of the debate see D.L. Douie, The Conﬂict Between the Seculars and the Mendicants at the University of Paris in the Thirteenth Century. The Aquinas Society of London, Aquinas Paper 23 (London, 1954); see also Brett, Humbert of Romans, p. 19. 58 William of St Amour, De periculis novissimorum temporum, in Opera Omnia (Constance, 1632).

‘ ’    

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name the sermon is clearly aimed against them. At one point he declares: There is another sign through which false preachers are known, that is if they are impatient and unable to withstand the truth which is said about them. Therefore, in Philippians 3 it is said: See the dogs, see the evil labourers, see the destruction. The Gloss [says] that dog means pseudo. They are called dogs because, according to Augustine, a dog is one who barks if it sees another man entering a house; and so too for those dogs, if they should see that another person preaches the truth about them, they are recalcitrant.59

The term dogs, canes, would have been familiar to all of William’s listeners as representing the Dominicans. The term referred to preachers in general and to the Dominicans in particular.60 Throughout the sermon William constantly deﬁnes the meaning of the true preacher. His deﬁnition makes the Dominicans into an absurdity who, he claims, are religious who have taken vows and hence do not have the right to govern. He bases his argument on his interpretation of the Pseudo-Dionysius’s Celestial Hierarchy which states that in the Church only bishops and priests (i.e., the ordained) 59 Guillaume de Saint-Amour, Opera Omnia, (Hildesheim, 1997; rpr. Constance, 1632), p. 504: Item aliud Signum, per quod cognoscuntur falsi Praedicatores, est si sint impatientes, et non possunt sustinere quod veritas de eis dicatur. Vnde ad Philipp. 3: Videte canes, videte malos Operarios, videte concisionem. Glossa. Canes id est Pseudo; qui dicuntur canes; quia secundum Augustinum canis est, qui si videt hominem alienum intrantem domum, latrat: sic et ipsi, si videant quod aliquis veritatem de eis praedicat, recalcitrant. 60 On this subject Pierre Mandonnet writes: ‘‘Humbert of Romans, whose work richly reﬂects the temper of the thirteenth century, made a collection of the ﬁgures employed in ecclesiastical books to refer to the preachers of the Gospel.They proceeded ultimately from Scripture through the medium of the gloss in which the meanings were related to the preachers, as Humbert states in introducing his enumeration: ‘In regard to the ﬁgures for the preachers, it must be noted that Holy Scripture presents almost innumerable images to signify the preachers, as shown in the glosses.’ The reader will be spared the list. It is enough to indicate, for example, that preachers were represented as the mouth of the Lord, angels, stars, clouds, precious stones, fountains, eagles, and so on. We hardly need to say that they were also represented as dogs. Isaiah 56:10, ‘Dumb dogs not able to bark.’ ‘Gloss: To bark means to preach. The preacher, therefore, is spoken of as a dog, and, like a hungry dog, he ought to run hither and thither to swallow souls into the body of the Church, according to the words of psalm 58:7,’ ‘They shall suﬀer hunger like dogs, and shall go round about the city.’ In his enumeration, Humbert of Romans makes no comment on the symbols most frequently used, but he leaves no doubt that the symbol of the dog was most popular.’’ Taken from Pierre Mandonnet, OP, St. Dominic and His Work, trans. Sister Mary Benedicta Larkin (St Louis, 1948) at ttp://www.op.org/domcentral/trad/domwork/domworka6.htm. Humbert’s detailed treatment of the term canes as reﬂecting the Dominicans makes William use of the term all the more poignant.

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should govern; while Christians, catechumens and religious (i.e., anyone who takes a vow) should be governed. From this William concludes: Therefore religious ought not to govern but to be governed in as much as they are religious... Therefore, when someone will come to you who ought not to govern but should be governed, and he will say to some of you: ‘‘Commit yourself to me and my cares,’’ you tell him: ‘‘You can’t do that, you shouldn’t govern others.’’ … Therefore in the whole of scripture there is no mention made at all of such a blemish as this. And therefore I preach to you these things so that when they will come you know to avoid them. And I would not say these things here and in this place unless I were called to do so; and I fear greatly that few or none preach about these blemishes; and those who do preach about them are held in contempt and are in bodily danger.61

Throughout this sermon William tried to demonstrate that the mendicant way of life had no meaning by portraying new religious movements as novelties that had no biblical foundation. But Humbert in his sermones ad status sketches showed quite the opposite in regard to all the religious orders. This particularly is the case with the Dominicans which he deﬁned thusly: For the brother who crosses over to the estate of Preachers it must be considered how very excellent this oﬃce is because it is apostolic; how useful it ought to be considered because it is directly ordered to the salvation of souls: how perilous it is because few have it in them and do what this oﬃce requires, which is not without great peril. The greater the peril, the greater the dignity of the oﬃce.62

Humbert’s sermon sketch writes the friars into the body of the history of the Church. This would have been a prevailing concern for

61 Guillaume de Saint-Amour, Opera Omnia: 500–01: Vnde et Religiosi non debent gubernare, sed gubernari, inquantum Religiosi... Vnde quando veniet ad vos talis qui regi et non regere debet, et dicet alicui vestrum Committere te mihi et cura mea, dicas sibi Tu non potes, nec debes alios gubernare ... Vnde in tota Scriptura non ﬁt mentio tantum de aliquo vitio sicut de isto. Et ideo praedico vobis, haec, ut cum venerint sciatis vobis cavere. Nec ego dico hic vel in aliquo loco nisi vocatus; et timeo valde quod de istis vitiis pauci vel nulli praedicant; et qui de hoc praedicant, odio habentur, et sunt in periculo corporis. 62 Humbert de Romans, De eruditione praedicatorum at pp. 461–62: Fratri, qui transit ad statum Praedicatorum considerandum est quam excellens sit istud oﬃcium, quia est Apostolicum: quam vtile, quia directe ordinatur ad salutem animarum: quam periculosum, quia pauci habent in se, vel faciunt, quae requirit istud oﬃcium, quod non est sine magno periculo, et tanto est magis periculosum, quanto est dignius oﬃcium.

‘ ’    

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Humbert as the debate between the mendicants and seculars raged throughout the thirteenth century. Conclusion The sermones ad status reveal a tendency to deﬁne, order, and direct perceptions of society. These sermons reﬂect debates concerning the hierarchy of estates. Otto Gerhard Oexle has argued that intellectual and social conﬂicts in the Middle Ages were conducted as disputes over schemes for interpreting social reality. Let us recall that the conﬂict over lay preaching in the late twelfth and thirteenth centuries was sparked by older interpretations of the ordo laicorum, and that the mendicant dispute of the 1250s and 1260s, which involved the mendicant orders’ right to preach and engage in pastoral activities, was also conducted as a dispute over the estates and the doctrine of hierarchy propounded by Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite.63

Much has been written on how social hierarchies were debated in the Middle Ages through commentaries on Pseudo-Dionysius’s Celestial Hierarchy and Ecclesiastical Hierarchy.64 But sermones ad status also present ‘‘intellectual and social conﬂicts’’ that each preacher faced as a result of his interpretation of ‘‘social reality’’.65 Whether it be sermons directed to farmers, beguines, scholars, or canonesses, these preachers provide a glimpse of the lives of their audience; but more deﬁnitively they give insight into what each preacher desired to maintain or to eliminate from his social landscape. Ironically, scholars, for the most part, have looked at ad status collections to 63 Otto Gerhard Oexle, ‘‘Perceiving Social Reality in the Early and High Middle Ages: A Contribution to a History of Social Knowledge,’’ in Ordering Medieval Society: Perspective on Intellectual and Practical Modes of Shaping Social Relations, ed. Bernhard Jussen, trans. Pamela Selwyn (Philadelphia, 2001), pp. 92–143, at 117. I am grateful to George Ferzoco for bringing this book to my attention. 64 For example see: Yves M.J. Congar, ‘‘Aspects ecclésiologiques de la querelle entre mendiants et séculiers dans la seconde moitié du xiiie siècle et le début du xive,’’ Archives d’Histoire Doctrinale et Litteraire du Moyen Age 36 (1961), 35–151; Albert Zimmermann, ed., Soziale Ordungen im Selbstverständnis des Mittelalters, Miscellanea Medieaevalia 12 (Berlin, 1979). 65 However, it should be noted Paul Dutton does consider the signiﬁcance of Alan of Lille’s tripartite scheme used in his sermones ad status. See Paul Dutton, ‘‘Illustre Civitates et Populi Exemplum: Plato’sTimaeus and the Transmission from Calcidius to the end of the Twelfth Century of a Tripartite Scheme of Society,’’ Mediaeval Studies 45 (1983), 79–119, at 112–14.

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examine what they indicate about the audience, but what they tell us about the preacher is more signiﬁcant. Indeed, future studies on medieval social hierarchies need to consider the arguments that ad status preachers oﬀered in the debate about how society was to be understood. Select Bibliography Bataillon, Louis-Jacques, La prédication au ème siècle en France en Italie. Études et documents, Variorum Collected Studies Series (Aldershot, 1993). Bériou, Nicole and David L. d’Avray, eds., Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons: Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, Bibliotheca di Medioevo Latino 11 (Spoleto, 1994). Constable, Giles, Three Studies in Medieval Religious and Social Thought: The Interpretation of Mary and Martha. The Ideal of the Imitation of Christ. The Orders of Society (Cambridge, 1995). Gurevich, A.J., Categories of Medieval Culture, trans. G.L. Campbell (London, 1972). Honorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae, PL 172 (Paris, 1895), pp. 813–1108, at 861–70. Humbert de Romans, De eruditione praedicatorum, in Bibliotheca maxima veterum patrum 25 (Lyon, 1677), pp. 424–567, at 456–506. Le Goﬀ, Jacques, Time, Work and Culture in the Middle Ages, trans. Arthur Goldhammer (Chicago, 1977). Oexle, Otto Gerhard, ‘‘Perceiving Social Reality in the Early and High Middle Ages: A Contribution to a History of Social Knowledge.’’ In Ordering Medieval Society: Perspective on Intellectual and Practical Modes of Shaping Social Relations, ed. Bernhard Jussen, trans. Pamela Selwyn (Philadelphia, 2001), pp. 92–143. Pitra, Jean-Baptiste, Analecta novissima spicilegii Solesmensis. Altera continuatio  (Tusculana, 1888; rpr. Farnborough [UK], 1967), pp. 189–93; 344–461. [Contains a partial edition of Jacques de Vitry’s Sermones ad status.] Swanson, Jenny, ‘‘Childhood and childrearing in ad status sermons by later thirteenth century friars,’’ Journal of Medieval History 16 (1990), 309–33. Zimmermann, Albert, ed., Soziale Ordungen im Selbstverständnis des Mittelalters, Miscellanea Medieaevalia 12 (Berlin, 1979).

PART SEVEN

SERMONS AS AN HISTORICAL SOURCE

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CHAPTER TWELVE

THE CONTEXT OF MEDIEVAL SERMON COLLECTIONS ON SAINTS George Ferzoco

Introduction One of the oldest scholarly institutions in existence is the Société des Bollandistes. Based presently in Brussels, these Jesuit scholars have produced editions and studies of works related to the cult of saints ever since the time of the society’s founder, Jean Bolland (1596–1665). The sixty-nine in-folio tomes of the Acta Sanctorum (the ﬁrst of which was published in 1643), the journal Analecta Bollandiana (1882–present), and the monograph series Subsidia hagiographica have been, without doubt, the most signiﬁcant contribution to the establishment and advancement of the science of critical hagiography. Hippolyte Delehaye (1859–1941), perhaps the most inﬂuential Bollandist of the past century, provided his deﬁnitive scholarly blueprint for the study of hagiography in the book Cinq leçons sur la méthode hagiographique; here, the learned Jesuit makes clear that hagiographical literature covers an immense ﬁeld of study, one which is still in part to be discovered.1 He touches upon a range of this literature, one which was further developed by René Aigrain.2 Later guides to hagiographical research include a book co-authored by Jacques Dubois and Jean-Loup Lemaître,3 and an even more substantial tome by Réginald Grégoire.4 Although each successive 1 Hippolyte Delehaye, Cinq leçons sur la méthode hagiographique, Subsidia hagiographica 21 (Brussels, 1934), p. 8. 2 René Aigrain, L’hagiographie. Ses sources, ses méthodes, son histoire (Paris, 1953). 3 Jacques Dubois and Jean-Loup Lemaître, Sources et méthodes de l’hagiographie médiévale, Histoire (Paris, 1993). 4 Réginald Grégoire, Manuale di agiologia. Introduzione alla letteratura agiograﬁca, second edition, Bibliotheca Montisfani 12 (Fabriano, 1996).

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work lists and describes an increasing quantity and variety of sources, sermons are barely mentioned, if at all. About the most extensive discussion, in any of these books, is in Grégoire’s study; and here, even though he states that the role of sermons and homilies in the diﬀusion of saints’ cults is beyond question, the only consideration given to this matter is in a concise footnote.5 This article cannot pretend to ﬁll the void indicated or hinted at by preceding scholars, but it will place late medieval sermon collections on saints in an historical, generic and typological framework, to serve as a guide for future research. The Rise of the Cult of Saints The late medieval religious mentality reserved a special, and increasing, devotion to the liturgical and popular celebration of saints’ cults. Although evidently it is not possible to gauge this growth in devotion with precision, it does seem that feasts honouring saints increased by about a quarter (if not more) from the tenth to fourteenth centuries.6 This phenomenon, coinciding with the accelerating centralizing pressures exacted by – and often demanded of – the papacy, helps explain the establishment of canonization, through which the papal curia became the ultimate arbiter of the legitimacy of universal cults.7 The late medieval ‘boom’ in devotion to saints also coincided with the sudden explosion of sermon literature. The twelfth to early ﬁfteenth centuries were the period in which sermon production grew immensely, and during this time there was a growing tendency to compose sermons for saints’ feasts, and an acceptance of

5

Ibid., 146, note 111. This is on the basis of the regional study carried out by Albert Hauck, Kirchengeschichte Deutschlands, eighth edition, vol. 5, no. 1 (Berlin, 1954), pp. 372–3. 7 The fundamental study of late medieval sanctity and canonization remains André Vauchez, La sainteté en Occident aux derniers siècles du Moyen Âge d’après les procès de canonisation et les documents hagiographiques, second edition, Bibliothèque des Écoles françaises d’Athènes et de Rome 241 (Rome, 1988). Even here, little is devoted to the role of sermons on saints in the formation and promulgation of cults; nevertheless, this in no way diminishes the signiﬁcance of this pioneering work. 6

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the need to preach on such occasions.8 One example is the case of Maurice of Sully (1120–96), who provided the following advice to preachers: More particularly regarding feast days, it is not solely by the authority of the Scriptures or by the reasons of divine precepts that we must inform the people entrusted to us by God for their instruction, so that they might obtain the supreme and eternal good. In proclaiming the life and virtues of the saints within and beyond the Church, it is necessary for us to encourage the people carefully. Some people, in eﬀect, are more easily led to act by way of examples rather than reason.9

Moreover, in a sermon he addressed to priests, Maurice of Sully advises his listeners to possess copies of homilies dealing with the life and behaviour of saints.10 In the sermon collection Maurice of Sully composed, we ﬁnd that twelve of the sixty-four texts are dedicated to saints’ feasts. The Rise of the Sermones de sanctis It was not long before there was, generally speaking, an increase in the quantity of sermons for saints’ feasts, as there was for the proportion of such sermons compared to those for other occasions. Such an increase was not to be found in all sermon authors: major ﬁgures such as Anthony of Padua, Bonaventure, and Nicholas Biard wrote only a small number. However, it became not uncommon to ﬁnd entire collections comprising solely of de sanctis sermons. In the 1230s, for example, Peter of Reims wrote two separate collections for the feasts of saints: one contained sermons for speciﬁc saints, and the other was made up of texts of a more generic nature (e.g., for the feast of a virgin, of a martyr, of a confes8 Nicole Bériou, ‘‘Les sermons latins après 1200,’’ in Beverly Mayne Kienzle, ed., The Sermon, Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 81–83 (Turnhout, 2000), pp. 363–447; at 388. 9 Maurice of Sully, Exsecutis superioribus sermonibus, in Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, latin 14937, f. 58va; noted in Jean Longère, La prédication médiévale (Paris, 1983), p. 216. 10 Charles A. Robson, Maurice of Sully and the Medieval Vernacular Homily. With the Text of Maurice’s French Homilies from a Sens Cathedral Chapter MS (Oxford, 1952), p. 56. See also Jean Longère, Les sermons latins de Maurice de Sully, évêque de Paris (†1196). Contribution à l’histoire de la tradition manuscrite, Instrumenta Patristica 16 (Steenbrugge and Dordrecht, 1988).

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sor).11 At about the same time, Jacques de Vitry composed a de sanctis collection consisting of one hundred and forty-three sermons; this is a signiﬁcant proportion of his total sermon output of four hundred and forty texts.12 This collection contains a number of de communi sanctorum sermons, which serve as models for general types of saints such as martyrs and virgins; also present are some sermons intended for speciﬁc liturgical events such as altar dedications. Most of the texts, however, are for particular saints’ feasts; Jacques de Vitry normally wrote at least two sermons for such occasions. Signiﬁcantly, his choice of feasts was not limited speciﬁcally to the areas or dioceses in which he normally resided; rather, most are from the Roman calendar, indicating his aim of reaching an international audience.13 Even more signiﬁcant is his stated purpose in writing this collection. Jacques de Vitry ‘‘proposes to speak about the perfect, and states that he will show how the life of the saints should be imitated.’’14 Such interest in creating literature regarding saints was not limited to the homiletic sphere, as the thirteenth-century growth of de sanctis sermon collections co-incided precisely with the creation of collections of legenda, or saints’ lives. These collected vitae were often (but not strictly, and by no means exclusively) more narratively biographical in emphasis than their counterparts in sermon literature,

11 Johann-Baptist Schneyer, Repertorium der lateinischen Sermones des Mittelalters für die Zeit von 1150–1350, vol. 4 (Münster, 1972), pp. 724–57. 12 Jean Longère notes that the two best manuscripts of this collection both contain 115 sermons, and holds that the additional sermons contained in other collections are not authentic; the essential point for this present examination remains that the number of sermons dedicated by Jacques de Vitry to saints’ feasts is proportionately signiﬁcant. See Jean Longère, ‘‘Un sermon inédit de Jacques de Vitry: ‘Si annis multis vixerat homo’,’’ in L’Église et la mémoire des morts dans la France médiévale. Communications présentées à la table ronde du C.N.R.S., le 14 juin 1982, ed. Jean-Loup Lemaître (Paris, 1986), pp. 31–51; see note 4 on p. 37[–8]. 13 See Monica Sandor, The Popular Preaching of Jacques de Vitry (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Toronto, 1993), p. 72. 14 For Jacques de Vitry’s statement, see Édouard de Moreau, ed., ‘‘Prologus,’’ Annales du e Congrès [de la Fédération archéologique & historique de Belgique], tome 2 [Rapports et memoires] (Malines, 1911), pp. 327–37; 332: ‘‘… ita in his sermonibus loqui proposuimus perfectis, ostensuri qualiter vitam sanctorum debeant imitari.’’ For a discussion concerning a selection of Jacques de Vitry’s sermones de sanctis, see Carolyn Muessig, ‘‘Paradigms of Sanctity for Thirteenth-Century Women,’’ in Models of Holiness in Medieval Sermons. Proceedings of the International Symposium (Kalamazoo, 4–7 May 1995), Textes et études du Moyen Âge 5, ed. Beverly Mayne Kienzle et al. (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1996), pp. 85–102; at 89 for this observation.

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but also contained short accounts of the saints’ miracle stories. It was Jean de Mailly (who died in the late 1250s) who ﬁrst compiled saints’ lives into one work, and it is extremely signiﬁcant to note his motivation, as expressed in the prologue of his book: Since many pastors do not have ready access to the passions and lives of saints that they should know and preach on account of their oﬃce, in order to stimulate devotion among the faithful toward these blessed people, we shall gather together these lives in an abridged form, and particularly those lives of saints whose names appear in the calendar. The brevity of this little work will not possibly give rise to carelessness on the part of pastors, and the lack of books will no longer excuse them.15

It may even be said that the genre of collected legenda was very much a creation of the Dominicans, the order that most singularly devoted itself to preaching: the earliest compilations included Dominican authors such as Jean de Mailly, Bartolomeo da Trento, Bernard Gui and Pierre Calo, not to mention the most renowned contributor of all, Jacopo da Varazze, whose collection soon became known simply as the Legenda aurea.16 Jacopo da Varazze Inspired by his Dominican predecessors and colleagues, Jacopo da Varazze followed Jean de Mailly’s organizational method of presenting the saints’ lives in the order of the calendar;17 in fact, the emphasis of the Legenda aurea’s prologue is precisely on how ﬁtting 15 Jean de Mailly, Abrégé des gestes et miracles des saints, tr. Antoine Dondaine, Bibliothèque d’histoire dominicaine 1 (Paris, 1947), p. 23. The text is based mainly on four manuscripts: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, latin 10843; Paris, Bibliothèque de l’Arsenal 1731; and Paris, Bibliothèque Mazarine 1731 and Bern, Burgerbibliothek 377. 16 Jacopo da Varazze, Legenda aurea, ed. Giovanni Paolo Maggioni, second edition, two volumes (Millennio medievale 6; Millennio medievale, Testi 3*) (Florence, 1998). For an examination of manuscripts and editing criteria, see Giovanni Paolo Maggioni, Ricerche sulla composizione e sulla trasmissione della Legenda aurea, Biblioteca di «Medioevo latino» 8 (Spoleto, 1995). 17 On Jacopo’s use of Jean de Mailly, see Antoine Dondaine, ‘‘Le dominicain français Jean de Mailly et la Légende dorée,’’ Archives d’histoire dominicaine 1 (1946), 53–102; Karl-E. Geith, ‘‘Die ‘Abbreviatio in gestis et miraculis sanctorum’ von Jean de Mailly als Quelle der ‘Legenda aurea’,’’ Analecta Bollandiana 105 (1987), 209–302; and Giovanni Paolo Maggioni, ‘‘Il codice novarese de Jean de Mailly e la ‘Legenda aurea’,’’ Novarien 17 (1987), 173–84.

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is such a plan for the pastor and his ﬂock (although this intended readership is not explicitly stated by Jacopo).18 This collection of saints’ lives fulﬁlled the needs of readers so well that it soon became one of the most widely circulated texts of the later Middle Ages. The popularity of the Legenda aurea has been well known to scholars, and much commented on. Almost completely ignored has been the fact that Jacopo’s sermon collections were the most widely copied of the thirteenth, fourteenth and ﬁfteenth centuries; indeed, the Genovese archbishop’s de sanctis collection is extant today in over 250 manuscripts.19 The Popularity of de sanctis collections This raises an extremely important question: if the Legenda aurea speciﬁcally, and collected vitae generally, proved so popular, why – if the readership was intended to be one of preachers – was it that de sanctis sermon collections were so popular (indeed, why were they even deemed necessary)? There are several answers, of which two can be given brieﬂy here. First, for example, given the popularity of ﬁfteenth-century model sermon collections such as the Dormi secure – so named be18 Vniuersum tempus presentis uite in quatuor distinguitur, scilicet in tempus deuiationis, renouationis siue reuocationis, reconciliationis et peregrinationis. Tempus deuiationis fuit ab Adam, postquam scilicet a deo deuiauit, et durauit usque ad Moysen; et illud tempus representat ecclesia a septuagesima usque ad pascha, unde et tunc legitur liber Geneseos in quo ponitur deuiatio primorum parentum … Vt igitur ordo temporis ab ecclesia distinctus seruetur, primo agemus de festiuitatibus que occurrent infra tempus renouationis, quod tempus representat ecclesia ab aduentu usque ad natiuitatem domini. Secundo de illis que occurrunt infra tempus quod partim continetur sub tempore reconciliationis partim sub tempore peregrinationis, quod tempus representat ecclesia a natiuitate usque ad septuagesimam. Tertio de illis que occurrunt infra tempus deuiationis, quod tempus representat ecclesia a septuagesima usque ad pascha. Quarto de illis que occurrunt infra tempus reconciliationis, quod tempus representat ecclesia a pascha usque ad octauam pentecosten. Quinto de illis que occurrunt infra tempus peregrinationis, quod tempus representat ecclesia ab octaua pentecosten usque ad aduentum. Jacopo da Varazze, Legenda aurea, ed. G.P. Maggioni, pp. 3, 4–5. 19 By taking into account the entries found in Johann-Baptist Schneyer, Repertorium, volume 3 (Münster, 1969), pp. 221–83, and in Thomas Kaeppeli, Scriptores Ordinis Praedicatorum Medii Aevi, volume 2 (Rome, 1975), pp. 359–69, one ﬁnds that the number of extant manuscripts of Jacopo’s sermon collections are as follows: 522 dominicales, 327 quadragesimales, 253 de sanctis, and 76 mariales. These ﬁgures pertain to known complete codices; the number of copies of single sermons, of extracts such as exempla, and of printed books together would indicate an even greater reach of this homiletic material. Fortunately, Nicole Bériou and Jacques Berlioz have formed an international team of scholars working on the corpus of Jacopo de Varazze’s sermons.

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cause it promised preachers a good night’s sleep because they knew they could ﬁnd a good sermon in the collection to deliver the following day – we know that model sermons were consistently produced and used throughout the later Middle Ages. Jacopo’s sermons, like other similar works, were indeed meant to be used by preachers as the texts underlying their homiletic activities.20 Not only do these sermons present their material such that they are readily of use, they also often emphasize diﬀerent aspects of saints’ lives. Whereas legenda tend to narrate the salient episodes of a saint’s life as a frame for further discussion of that holy person’s virtues, sermons (at least, as written by their authors) tend to centre more obviously on virtues, as a way of making the saints to be models of admirable, and above all, imitable holiness. Historians have noted a fundamental shift in late medieval hagiography, in which emphasis grew to be placed on making saints to be as imitable as possible.21 Some scholars have argued that the centralization of the Roman church resulted in mendicant (and preaching) orders.These new orders, as a sort of preaching army, would persuade people to overthrow older social models while conforming to the papacy’s moral outlook (including that regarding holiness).22 Their outlook, as reﬂected in their sermons for saints’ feasts, would result in a sort of hagiography for the masses: not a hagiography of distant isolation and austere thaumaturgy, but a hagiography of contact with people of all social groups, and particularly of a holiness that was within the reach of all. Such writing on saints could not be conﬁned to traditional texts that were essentially intended for private reading or group meditation. They needed to be transformed into a more immediate genre, enabling a rapid and eﬀective transmission of information to a range of readers and (especially) listeners. And so 20 Ironically, the author of the Dormi secure collection, Johannes Nider O.P. (ca. 1380–1438), himself relied upon Jacopo’s works. See John Dahmus, ‘‘A medieval preacher and his sources: Johannes Nider’s use of Jacobus de Voragine,’’ Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 58 (1988), 121–76. 21 This shift is discussed in André Vauchez, ‘‘Saints admirables et saints imitables: Les fonctions de l’hagiographie ont-elles changé aux derniers siècles du Moyen Âge?’’, in Les fonctions des saints dans le monde occidental e–e siècle). Actes du Colloque organisé par l’École française de Rome avec le concours de l’Université de Rome «La Sapienza», Rome, 27–29 octobre 1988, Collection de l’École française de Rome 149 (Rome, 1991), pp. 161–72. 22 On this tension, see Michael Goodich, Vita perfecta. The Ideal of Sainthood in the Thirteenth Century, Monographien zur Geschichte des Mittelalters 25 (Stuttgart, 1982), pp. 206–12.

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they were, through the growth of collections of de sanctis sermons. As sermons, they were designed to be transmitted on occasions when large numbers would gather, and these would be on feast days.23 An inextricable tie existed between sermon and liturgical moment.24 Moreover, this tie to the ecclesial feast of a saint provided preachers with special opportunities to reach their ﬂocks that usually were not within grasp. That is to say, given that Sunday preaching could be considered by preacher and audience as ‘‘routine’’, special occasions such as saints’ feasts could allow for a variety of points to be made that may not have been conveniently made during regular Sunday feasts. Example: Jacopo da Varazze on St Andrew To present brieﬂy an example of the transmission of hagiographical information in a homiletic context, it seems wise to use Jacopo da Varazze’s output as a case in point, given his obvious popularity and inﬂuence as a hagiographer and homilist. And purely at random, the very ﬁrst sermon of his collection, for the ﬁrst feast of the sanctoral calendar, has been selected; this is the ﬁrst of his three sermons for the feast of St Andrew. Even though this sermon (presented at the end of this entry, as an appendix) is very brief, it contains several hallmarks which underline the points made above regarding the sermon’s emphasis on virtues, and its tie to the speciﬁc liturgical moment that was the saint’s feast (in the case of St Andrew, 30 November). With regard to virtues, one sees clearly how Jacopo emphasised, in the content

23 The most convincing portrayal of the medieval sermon as the mass medium par excellence of the later Middle Ages has been by David L. d’Avray. See, for example, his considerations on the role of holidays of obligation in the creation of sermon literature, in ‘‘Katherine of Alexandria and Mass Communications in Germany: Woman as Intellectual,’’ in Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons. Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, Biblioteca di «Medioevo latino» 11, ed. Nicole Bériou and David L. d’Avray (Spoleto, 1994), pp. 401–08. 24 Liturgical feasts were of suﬃcient variety as to allow for several diﬀerent types of preaching on saints; indeed, a feast was not even necessary. See George Ferzoco, ‘‘Sermon Literatures concerning Late Medieval Saints,’’ in Beverly Mayne Kienzle et al., eds., Models of Holiness in Medieval Sermons. Proceedings of the International Symposium (Kalamazoo, 4–7 May 1995), Textes et études du Moyen Âge 5 (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1996), pp. 103–25. As this range of sub-genres is discussed there, they will not be raised here.

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and the structure of his sermon, how Andrew’s holiness lay in his virtuousness. His four outstanding virtues are outlined as the bedrock of his perfection, and of Christ’s mark upon this apostle; moreover, it is extremely signiﬁcant that Jacopo chose a text that would have been known to listeners only by having attended religious oﬃces of the feast (in this case, the initial text (or theme) is from one of the day’s antiphons). Jacopo’s compositional characteristics and emphases are consistently to be found throughout the collection. Sherry Reames, in comparing the author’s treatment of St Benedict in the Legenda aurea and the Sermones de sanctis, has noted (among other things) how the narrative of Jacopo’s vita was largely anecdotal, whereas his sermons were more tightly, even abstractly, structured.25 Jacques Dalarun’s illuminating study of thirteenth-century sermons on St Francis includes a brief look at Jacopo’s four sermons on this nearcontemporary of his. And although the ﬁrst sermon emphasizes the wondrous austerity of his body rather than of his soul, by the end of the fourth sermon one ﬁnds a Francis whose moral qualities – poverty, humility, love, obedience – shine most brightly.26 A constant in all these sermons is that they are unlikely to have been preached as they were written, for this would have assumed an audience thoroughly familiar with the many salient episodes of a saint’s life. In order for the preacher to make his points eﬀectively, he would have had to diverge from his text to tell the story of certain episodes. But where would the preacher turn to? The answer is obvious: to a collection of saints’ lives, succinctly written but dense in detail. Such a collection, of course, would have been the Legenda aurea, written by the same author as the sermons. Scenarios such as this one underlie speculation that, by the fourteenth century, writers of sermons would often have had with them two textual authorities: a model sermon, and a life of a saint as found in a

25 Sherry Reames, The ‘‘Legenda aurea’’. A reexamination of its paradoxical history (Madison, 1985), p. 103: ‘‘His sermons dwell by preference on the moral lessons to be derived from the saints’ exemplary conduct.’’ 26 Jacques Dalarun, ‘‘Francesco nei sermoni: agiograﬁa e predicazione,’’ in La predicazione dei frati dalla metà del ‘200 alla ﬁne del ‘300. Atti del  Convegno internazionale, Assisi, 13–15 ottobre 1994, Atti dei Convegni della Società internazionale di studi francescani e del Centro interuniversitario di studi francescani, nuova serie 5 (Spoleto, 1995), pp. 337–404; 391–8 regarding Jacopo da Varazze’s sermons on Francis.

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collection of vitae.27 This helps explain the simultaneous growth in the late Middle Ages of the two hagiographical genres under discussion here.

27 Speculation along such lines can be found in David L. d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars. Sermons diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985), p. 71.

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A The following edition is largely based on the version of Jacopo da Varazze’s sermons published in: Sermones aurei in omnes totius anni dominicas, quadragesimam, et praecipua sanctorum festa quae ab ecclesia celebratur, ed. Rodolphe Cluyt [Rudolphus Clutius] (Leipzig and Cracow, 1760), v. 2, pp. 1–2. Jacopo da Varazze, De sancto Andrea, sermo  Theme and subject of sermon: the three qualities of the perfect person – virtue, care, perseverance Vestigia eius secutus est pes meus, uiam eius custodiui, et non declinaui ex ea [ Job 23, 11]. Tria sunt necessaria cuilibet uiro perfecto: unum, quod Christum sequatur per bonam uitam; secundum, quod ipsum custodiat per ﬁnalem perseuerantiam; tertium quod ab eo nunquam declinet per aliquam culpam. Ista tria beatus Andreas se fecisse gloriatur, cum dicit: Vestigia eius secutus est pes meus, uiam eius custodiui, et non declinaui ex ea. Christ’s vestiges = Andrew’s four virtues = his purity, charity, gentleness and piety Circa primum, notandum, quod uestigia Christi sunt uirtutes eius, scilicet eius puritas, charitas, mansuetudo, misericordia siue pietas. Ista uestigia Christi sanctus Andreas secutus est, que notantur in antiphona, que de ipso cantatur: ‘‘Concede nobis hominem iustum, redde nobis hominem sanctum; ne interﬁcias hominem Deo carum, iustum, mansuetum, et pium’’ [Antiphon for the Benediction at Lauds for the Feast of St Andrew]. Habuit ergo perfectam puritatem, ideo dicitur: ‘‘redde nobis hominem sanctum.’’ Sanctum enim, idem est, quod purum; unde in greco sanctum idem est quod ‘‘agyos’’, id est, ‘‘sine terra’’. Tunc enim Andreas fuit sine terra, quando omnia terrena reliquit, et se in munditia conseruauit: Ecce nos reliquimus omnia, et secuti sumus te [Matth 19, 27]. Habuit charitatem, ideo dicit: ‘‘ne interﬁcias hominem Deo carum.’’ Caritas enim dicitur ex eo, quod hominem Deo charum facit: qui enim magnam charitatem habet, magni pretii est apud Deum: qui paruam, parui qui nullam, nullius. Si charitatem non habuero, nihil sum [1 Cor 13, 2]. Habuit mansuetudinem et humilitatem, ideo subditur, mansuetum, quod signiﬁcatur per Moysen, qui sicut fuit ex aqua assumptus; sic iste de mari uocatus; de quo Moyse dicitur: Erat Moyses uir mitissimus inter omnes homines [Num. 12, 3]. Habuit misericordiam, et pietatem; ideo subditur, et pium. Eius autem pietas

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ostenditur ex eo, quod quatuor uicibus ﬂeuisse legitur. Habuit enim lachrymas amoris, quando ﬂeuit pro incarceratione Matthei fui amicissimi, et dilecti; compassionis, quando ﬂeuit propter extinctionem iuuenis a septem demonibus suﬀocati; doloris, quando ﬂeuit miserabilem statum Nicolai senis; et deuotionis, sicut quando ﬂeuit uadens ad paribulum cruces. Ista autem quatuor accipiuntur penes quadruplicem interpretationem huius nominis ‘‘Andreas’’. Interpretatur enim decorus, et quantum ad hoc accipitur eius puritas: Ecce tu pulcher es dilecte mei [Cant. 1, 15]. Et decorus interpretatur etiam uirilis, et quantum ad hoc accipitur eius caritas, que facit hominem uirilem et fortem: caritas omnia suﬀert [1 Cor 13, 7]. Interpretatur respondens pabulo, et quantum ad hoc accipitur eius pietas. Sicut enim oleum est pabulum luminis, sic pietas gratie spirtualis. Tunc autem quis respondet pabulo, quando compassioni, que est in corde, respondet eﬀectus in opere. Dicitur etiam Andreas quasi ‘‘antropos’’, id est, sursum conuersus, per quod intelligitur eius humilitas, que hominem sursum conuertit. Qui se humiliat, exaltabitur [Luc. 14, 11]. The fourfold manner in which Andrew tended to his path to holiness Secundo, uiam eius custodiuit: circa quod notandum quod quatuor sunt, que uiam custodire faciunt, scilicet ferramentorum impressio, crucium erectio, plantarum reﬂexio et lapidum aggregatio. Et quoniam Christus factus est nobis uia, ideo habuit ferramentorum, id est clauorum impressionem, crucis erectionem, spinarum in modum corone reﬂexionem, et lapidum aggregationem, quando scilicet Iudei lapides in Christum iacere uoluerunt. Beatus igitur Andreas uiam Christi custodiuit, quia semper respexit ad eius clauorum uulnerationem, ad Christi crucem, ad eius coronationem, et ad eius lapidationem. The four ways Andrew persevered Tertio, uiam non amisit, circa quod notandum, quod quatuor sunt, que uiam amittere faciunt, scilicet tenebra, nebula, nimetas niuium et densitas herbarum. Nullo istorum modorum sanctus Andreas uiam Dei perdidit. Non propter tenebras auaritie, quia omnia terrena contempsit; auari enim tenebras faciunt, dum inter se, et solem iusticie terram opponunt: iustitie lumen non luxit nobis [Sap. 5, 6]. Secundo eam non perdidit propter nebulam carnalis concupiscentie, quia corpus suum semper domauit. Vnde refert Augustinus de penitentia eum dixisse dum esset in cruce: ‘‘Recordor domine quantum in portando corpus onerosum, in domando superbum, in fouendo inﬁrmum, in coercendo letum laboraui’’ [PseudoAugustinus, De uera et falsa penitentia, 7, 6]. Dicitur autem nebula carnalis

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concupiscentia, quia sicur nebula ex aque uaporibus exurgit, sic in homine uoluptuoso fumositas malarum concupiscentiarum scaturit. Augustinus in libro confessiones: ‘‘Exhalabant nebule de limosa concupiscentia carnis, et scatebra pubertatis, et obnubilabant atque obfuscabant cor meum, ut non discerneretur serenitas eletionis a caligine libidinis’’ [Augustinus, Confessiones, 2, 2]. Tertio uiam Dei non perdidit propter niuem mundane glorie, quia totam uitam suam in cruce Christi posuit. Vnde ait: ‘‘Amator tuus semper fui, et desideraui amplectu te, o bona crux.’’ Assimilatur autem mundana gloria niui, quia licet ad modicum luceat, tamen cito euanescit; et ita uiam Dei perdere facit. Quomodo uos potestis credere, qui gloriam ab inuicem accepitis; et gloriam, que a solo Deo est, non queritis [Io. 5, 44]? Quarto eam non perdidit propter densitatem herbarum pigritie, non enim piger fuit, sed totam Achaiam conuertit. De pigris autem dicitur: per agrum hominis pigri transiui … et ecce totum repleuerant urtice [Prou. 24, 30–1].

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Bériou, Nicole and David d’Avray, eds., Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons. Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, Biblioteca di «Medioevo latino» 11 (Spoleto, 1994). Dalarun, Jacques, ‘‘Francesco nei sermoni: Agiograﬁa e predicazione,’’ in La predicazione dei frati dalla metà del ‘200 alla ﬁne del ‘300. Atti del  Convegno internazionale, Assisi, 13–15 ottobre 1994. Atti dei Convegni della Società internazionale di studi francescani e del Centro interuniversitario di studi francescani, nuova serie 5 (Spoleto, 1995), pp. 337–404. Goodich, Michael, Vita perfecta. The Ideal of Sainthood in the Thirteenth Century, Monographien zur Geschichte des Mittelalters 25 (Stuttgart, 1982). Kienzle, Beverly Mayne, ed., The Sermon, Typologie des sources du moyen âge occidental 81–83 (Turnhout, 2000). Beverly Mayne Kienzle et al., eds., Models of Holiness in Medieval Sermons. Proceedings of the International Symposium (Kalamazoo, 4–7 May 1995), Textes et études du Moyen Âge 5 (Louvain-la-Neuve, 1996). Kaeppeli, Thomas, Scriptores Ordinis Praedicatorum Medii Aevi, Volume 2 (Rome, 1975). Longère, Jean, La prédication médiévale (Paris, 1983). Longère, Jean, ‘‘Un sermon inédit de Jacques de Vitry: ‘Si annis multis vixerat homo,’ ’’ in L’Église et la mémoire des morts dans la France médiévale. Communications présentées à la table ronde du C.N.R.S., le 14 juin 1982, ed. Jean-Loup Lemaître (Paris, 1986), pp. 31–51. Reames, Sherry, The ‘‘Legenda aurea’’. A reexamination of its paradoxical history (Madison, 1985). Robson, Charles A. Maurice of Sully and the Medieval Vernacular Homily. With the Text of Maurice’s French Homilies from a Sens Cathedral Chapter MS (Oxford, 1952). Schneyer, Johann-Baptist, Repertorium der lateinischen Sermones des Mittelalters für die Zeit von 1150–1350,  vols (Münster, 1969–90). Vauchez, André, La sainteté en Occident aux derniers siècles du Moyen Âge d’après les procès de canonisation et les documents hagiographiques, second edition, Bibliothèque des Écoles françaises d’Athènes et de Rome 241 (Rome, 1988). Vauchez, André, ‘‘Saints admirables et saints imitables: Les fonctions de l’hagiographie ont-elles changé aux derniers siècles du Moyen Âge?’’ in Les fonctions des saints dans le monde occidental e–e siècle. Actes du Colloque organisé par l’École française de Rome avec le concours de l’Université de Rome «La Sapienza», Rome, 27–29 octobre 1988, Collection de l’École française de Rome 149 (Rome, 1991), pp. 161–72.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RECONSTRUCTING THE MENTAL CALENDAR OF MEDIEVAL PREACHING: A METHOD AND ITS LIMITS: AN ANALYSIS OF SUNDAY SERMONS Jussi Hanska

Introduction Paris in the 1230s, an English Franciscan Brother Haymo of Faversham (†1244) preaches in a parish church. Afterwards he has to spend three days hearing the confessions of the people who were moved by the sermon.1 In Germany, a certain robber knight and his followers have captured the Franciscan preacher, Berthold von Regensburg (†1272). When they learned who the captive was, the knight asked him to preach. Berthold happily obliged. After a powerful sermon the band of highwaymen wept. Releasing Brother Berthold and his companions, they promised to give up their evil ways. The robber knight himself was so devoted to Berthold that he followed him to the next town to hear him preach again. Unfortunately, he was recognised by the citizens. Not aware of his conversion, they hanged him without delay.2 We also know that Berthold was so popular that he had to preach in the ﬁelds outside the town walls to accommodate his audience. A high tower was constructed to be used as a pulpit. A ﬂagpole was set up so that people could see the direction of the wind and take their places accordingly.3 The very fact that we have several collections of Berthold’s model sermons tells of his immense popularity. Berthold states in the prologue for his Sunday sermons that he was forced to write them

1

Fratris Thomae vulgo dictu de Eccleston Tractatus de adventu fratrum minorum in Angliam, ed. A.G. Little (Manchester, 1951), p. 28. 2 Salimbene de Adam, Cronica, ed. Giuseppe Scalia, vol.  a. 1250–1287. Corpus Christianorum Continuatio Medievalis  A (Turnhout, 1999), pp. 843–45. 3 Salimbene de Adam, Cronica, pp. 840–41.

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down because there were many unoﬃcial versions in circulation. These were written by members of the audience and were ﬁlled with doctrinal errors; therefore, Berthold had to publish the oﬃcial versions of his sermons.4 In Siena, on 28 May 1425, Bernardino da Siena (†1444), the famous Observant Franciscan preacher, ﬁnished a long sermon on the holy name of Christ. He raised a wooden tablet on which was written the abbreviated name of Christ, IHS. The crowd, which was thirty thousand people according to the reporter of the sermon, and more according to the Chronicle of Siena, started shouting in chorus either ‘‘Jesus, Jesus, Jesus’’ or ‘‘Jesus have mercy on us’’ (this again varies in diﬀerent sources). A procession was then organized with the sign Bernardino had shown and the relics from all the churches of the town. A pyre of vanities was set up in the piazza to burn dice, playing cards, fashionable clothes and other sinful objects. Finally a certain woman who had been possessed by evil spirits for fourteen years was liberated from her tormentors.5 These impressionistic pictures taken from the chronicles describe three famous preachers at work. They were extraordinarily talented, and what is even more important, they were also highly charismatic. However, it can be argued that in the end the inﬂuence of such extraordinarily charismatic individuals did not have an impact on the life and habits of ordinary people. There were only a few of them, and even the most talented and charismatic individuals could not have long-lasting eﬀects on the lives of several generations of medieval Christians. To take but one example, we know that Bernardino da Siena returned to Siena just two years after the episode described above to deliver another cycle of Lenten sermons. This Quadragesimale of 1427 is full of bitter laments which 4 Berthold von Regensburg OFM, Sermones rusticanus de dominicis. Prologus. München, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek CLM 5531, f. 1v: Istos sermones ea necessitate coactus sum notare (cum tamen inuitissime hoc fecerim), quod cum predicarem eos in populo, quidam simplices clerici et religiosi non intelligentes in quibus uerbis et sententiis ueritas penderet, uoluerunt notare sibi illa que poterant capere, et sic multa falsa notauerunt. Quod cum ego deprehendissem timui ne si talia populo predicarent qualia ipsi notauerant populus in errore duceretur per falsitates illas, et hac necessitate coactus sum ipse notare quod predicaui, ut ad istorum sermonum exemplar alia falsa et inordinate notata corrigentur. 5 Le prediche volgari di San Bernardino da Siena dette nella Piazza del Campo l’anno , ed. Luciano Bianchi, Vol. 2 (Siena, 1884), p. 184. Bianchi, Le prediche volgari, p. 184; Cronaca Senese di Paolo di Tommaso Montauri. Rerum Italicarum Scriptores. Tome 15, part 6 (Bologna, 1937), p. 803.

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make it quite clear that no permanent improvement had followed from his sermons in 1425. The people of Siena were, in Bernardino’s eyes, more wicked and sinful than ever. For example, when treating the vice of sodomy he states that he had already discussed the subject but ‘‘little was kept in the memory.’’6 The eﬀects of religious revivals no matter how strong they are at the time tend to vanish rather soon, as witnessed in the examples of the Great Hallelujah movement in Northern Italy in 1233, the ﬂagellant movements, and Florence under the inﬂuence of yet another charismatic religious leader, the Dominican Savonarola.7 Therefore it is quite reasonable to argue that the regular Sunday sermons preached in churches all around Western Christendom were in the long run far more important than occasional triumphs by the above-mentioned, or other famous preachers.8 These sermons were nearly always delivered by ordinary rank and ﬁle preachers whose names have, in most cases, long since vanished into oblivion. Their sermons were not celebrated in chronicles or written down by enthusiastic members of the congregations. The importance of these sermons lies not in the fame of the preachers, the rhetorical quality of the sermons, or even in the doctrinal value of their substance, but in their continuity. Revivalist movements and preachers came and went, but the ordinary Sunday sermons remained. The purpose of this essay is to study these ordinary sermons delivered by ordinary preachers. What were the medieval Sunday sermons like? How can they be studied historically? There are two main parts in this essay. The ﬁrst proposes a method of studying Sunday sermons through surviving model sermon collections. It is based on the fact that what was preached was not, generally speaking, dependent on the actual situation in which people were living, but on liturgical considerations. This is not to say that important local events did not have any impact on preach6

Bianchi, Le prediche vulgari, p. 254: Io ne predicai qia altra volta: poco fu tenuto a memoria. On the Great Hallelujah and preaching, see Augustine Thompson, Revival Preachers and Politics in the Thirteenth-Century Italy: The Great Devotion of 1233 (Oxford, 1992). On medieval revivalism in general, see Gary Dickson, ‘‘Encounters in Medieval Revivalism: Monks, Friars, and Popular Enthusiasts,’’ Church History 69, no. 2 (1999), 265–93. 8 The names of Haymo of Faversham, Berthold von Regensburg, and Bernardino da Siena were presented only as examples; there are numerous other preachers who could have been mentioned, such as Anthony of Padua or Vincent Ferrer. 7

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ing, on the contrary, they very probably did. However, in normal circumstances the topics and subjects of preaching were more or less predestined by the Gospel and/or Epistle readings of that particular Sunday. This means that when the preacher opened his mouth after the reading of the Gospel or the Epistle, the congregation already more or less knew what he was going to preach about. The year was divided into parts by the liturgy and people were well aware of the topics connected to diﬀerent Sundays. This familiarity and a certain lack of originality played their part in forming the opinions and beliefs of medieval people. The same or similar ideas when repeated year in year out would eventually become assumptions. David d’Avray calls this ‘‘the drip-drip method of inculcating beliefs.’’9 He proposes that by reading through large quantities of sermons for each Sunday one could eventually establish what was the yearly agenda of the medieval preaching, or as he puts it, ‘‘reconstruct the mental calendar of mendicant preaching.’’10 The second part of this essay deals with the limitations and shortcomings of this method. Is it after all possible to reconstruct a mental calendar of medieval preaching? The Sources When we talk about medieval Sunday sermons we are actually talking about three diﬀerent things: the actual sermons as they were preached, reportationes, and model sermons. The actual sermons are beyond the reach of historical research because medieval technology did not allow for the exact recording of sermons as they were delivered. Therefore we have to try to reconstruct what they were like. Some information can be gained from chronicles and other narrative sources that describe preachers at work.11 Some details can be discovered through the ﬁscal records of towns such as when 9 David L. d’Avray, ‘‘Method in the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ in Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons. Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, ed. Nicole Bériou and David L. d’Avray, Biblioteca di «Medioevo Latino» 11 (Spoleto, 1994), p. 9. 10 David L. d’Avray, The Preaching of the Friars. Sermons diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1995), p. 251. 11 There are plenty of examples of chronicles that describe preaching. Suﬃce it to mention Salimbene de Adam’s Cronica, whose depiction of Berthold von Regensburg’s preaching activities has already been quoted above.

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preachers were employed by the community, when they preached, and what was paid to them.12 Works of art give us some information. There are manuscript illuminations depicting preachers, and we even have a few surviving medieval pulpits. Nevertheless, our knowledge of the heart and essence of medieval Sunday sermons, that is, what was actually preached, comes from the surviving sermon texts. These can be divided into two categories: reportationes and model sermons. The existing source material does not allow us to reconstruct medieval sermons perfectly. Some aspects will remain a mystery, such as the non verbal aspects of communication. The message of the sermon was sometimes tied to the occasion and context of the sermon. Preachers may have used wall paintings of churches to help their audiences to understand a pastoral message; but such methods of clariﬁcation are usually not indicated in sermon texts. We know on the basis of surviving manuscript illustrations, other pictures depicting preachers at work, and from some methodological treatises written for them, that the use of signs and other body language was fairly common.13 A signiﬁcant part of the message was conveyed by the tone and facial expressions of the preacher. Sometimes even theatrical special eﬀects were used; rarely are they explicitly mentioned. The example presented at the beginning of this essay of Bernardino da Siena is one such exception. But what is known about medieval Sunday sermons? The category of sermon texts that is closest to the actual sermons are the reportationes. They are sermons that were, for some reason or other, written down by a member of audience while the preacher was delivering his speech. Still, they do not necessarily include everything that was said. Sometimes they may even include things that were not said at all. The reporters may have misunderstood or misinterpreted what they heard. There are further complications due to the fact that many reportationes were written in Latin whereas the actual sermons were in many cases delivered in the vernacular. Some details were inevitably lost in the translation process. Even in

12 See for example Hervé Martin, Le métier de prédicateur à la ﬁn du Moyen Age 1350–1520 (Paris, 1988). 13 See for example Jean-Claude Schmitt, Il gesto nel medioevo (Roma, 1991), pp. 253–58; Franco Cardini, ‘‘Aspetti ludici, scenici e spettacolari della predicazione francescana,’’ in Franco Cardini, Minima medievalia (Firenze, 1987), pp. 187–210.

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the cases where we possess sermon notes as they were written by the preacher himself we cannot be sure that he actually spoke as he had written. Speeches are not always given exactly as written down in advance. What exactly is the relationship between reportationes and actual preaching? There are rare cases of sermons that have survived in both reportatio form and in a version written down by the preacher himself. These allow us to compare the versions. On the basis of such comparisons we know that the writers of the reportationes were surprisingly accurate. In many cases the diﬀerences between reportationes and the oﬃcial versions of the sermons were not signiﬁcant.14 Thus we may say that reportationes, even if they do not reproduce the original sermon, do give us a reasonably accurate picture of medieval Sunday sermons. The biggest problem concerning reportationes is that they are very rare. Therefore one has to turn to the other type of surviving sermon texts, that is, model sermons.15 There are numerous surviving collections of model sermons. These collections were written for preachers who either did not want to compose their own sermons, or were not able to do so, or simply wanted to have a fresh outlook on preaching material. They can be divided roughly into four categories: Sermones de tempore/dominicales, sermones quadragesimales, sermones de sanctis/festivi, and sermones de communi sanctorum.16 The ﬁrst of these categories is the most signiﬁcant judging from the number of surviving manuscripts. Sermones de tempore/dominicales are also the most important category from the point of the view of this essay, since they were used as models for the ordinary Sunday sermons. Sermones de tempore collections include

14 See Louis Jacques Bataillon, ‘‘Approaches to the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ Leeds Studies in English, new series 11 (1980), 19–35 at 21–22. In this article Bataillon discusses the case of a certain sermon by Matteo d’Aquasparta and argues that the reportatio is in fact, at least partly, a more complete version of the actual sermon than the handwritten text by Aquasparta himself. Nicole Bériou makes the same observation concerning the sermons of Ranulphe de la Houblonnière; Nicole Bériou, L’avènement des maîtres de la parole. La prédication à Paris au e siècle, vol. . Collection des Études Augustiniennes serie Moyen Âge et temps modernes 31 (Paris, 1998), p. 108. 15 On the model sermons see: Bataillon, ‘‘Approaches to the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ pp. 19–35; d’Avray, ‘‘Method in the Study of Medieval Sermons.’’ 16 Other types of model sermon collections are sermones ad status (for diﬀerent groups in society), sermones de mortuis (memorial sermon collections), and the collections of Marian sermons. These were, however, not as common as the four main types. For futher discussion of ad status sermons see Carolyn Muessig’s article in this collection.

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not only ordinary Sundays, but also the feasts of the Lord, whereas dominicales collections include only normal Sundays.17 The relation between model sermon texts and actual Sunday sermons is very problematic. Model sermons were used by ordinary preachers to put together their Sunday sermons. Therefore we can assume that they had much inﬂuence on what was preached by priests and religious all over Christendom. This is just a reasonable assumption, however, because we do not know how commonly model sermon collections were used. Furthermore, they could have been used in numerous ways. Lazy preachers may have borrowed them in extenso, while others may have used them only selectively taking what they wanted and leaving out other parts. On the other hand, sometimes model sermons were edited versions of Sunday sermons which had been preached live by the writer of the collection. This was the case with the model sermons of Berthold von Regensburg. Comparisons between model sermons and sermons surviving as reportationes show that the doctrinal and stylistic diﬀerences between these two genres are not signiﬁcant. Therefore it is safe to assume that model sermons also reﬂect quite well the style and contents of actual Sunday sermons. They may not be identical with each other, but they are close relatives. Introducing the Method The biggest problem for the historian of medieval Sunday sermons is not that one does not know what was preached. The lack of sources is not a problem either. If one counts only those sermons that were catalogued by J.-B. Schneyer, one ends up with more than 140,000 sermons.18 A good deal of these 140,000 sermons are Sunday sermons, perhaps more than half of them. There are also a number of sermons that managed to escape Schneyer’s attention. 17 H.L. Spencer assumes quite reasonably that the sermones de sanctis collections were also used as model sermons for Sunday preaching. She argues that saints’ sermons were used as alternative Sunday sermons on the Sunday closest to the feast in question; English Preaching in the Late Middle Ages (Oxford, 1993), p. 31. For further discussion of de sanctis sermons see George Ferzoco’s article in this collection 18 Johann-Baptist Schneyer, Repertorium der lateinischen Sermones des Mittelalters für die Zeit von 1150–1350 (11 vols, Münster 1969–1990); George Ferzoco, ‘‘The Schneyer Archive,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 39 (1997), 6–8.

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Thus the problem with studying medieval Sunday sermons is not a lack of material, but the quantity of it. It would be quite laborious to read through thousands of sermons randomly in order to seek desired information. The diﬃculties arise also from the fact that only a few model sermon collections ever made it into print during the late Middle Ages and early modern period. Modern scientiﬁc editions of texts are even less common. There are editions of the sermon collections of important theologians and saints, such as Anthony of Padua (†1231) and Bonaventure (†1274), but editions of sermon collections by rank and ﬁle preachers are almost non existent.19 A possible solution is to conﬁne one’s study to considering a limited geographical area or certain time period. Even in these cases the number of sermons to read through would still be high. For example, concentrating on French sermons, fourteenth-century sermons or even French fourteenth-century sermons would still leave one with a huge number of sermons all over the archives and libraries of Europe. Furthermore, if one limits the ﬁeld of study too strictly one loses the advantages of comparison. Therefore, a good method of analysing large quantities of sermons within a reasonable research time is needed. Such a method is David d’Avray’s concept of a ‘‘mental calendar of medieval preaching’’. So far a serious attempt at reconstructing the mental calendar of medieval preaching remains very much undone. The method has not been tried out with saints’ day sermons; and in regard to Sunday sermons, only a few Sundays have been properly covered.20 The method is reasonably easy to use. A topic is chosen, then Gospel and/or Epistle readings for diﬀerent Sundays are read to ﬁnd out which are the texts and themata that were likely to serve as a springboard when dealing with the chosen topic. Sometimes the readings suggest almost self-evident topics, sometimes one needs a 19 There are exceptions such as the edition of sermons by the Polish Dominican Peregrinus de Oppeln; Peregrini de Opole Sermones de tempore et de sanctis, ed. Richardus Tatarzynski (Warsaw, 1997). 20 See David L. d’Avray, ‘‘The Gospel of the Marriage Feast of Cana and Marriage Preaching in France,’’ in The Bible in the Medieval World. Essays in Memory of Beryl Smalley, ed. K. Walsh and D. Wood. Studies in Church History Subsidia 4 (Oxford, 1985), pp. 207–24; Jussi Hanska, ‘‘And the Rich Man also died; and He was buried in Hell’’. The Social Ethos in Mendicant Sermons (Helsinki, 1997). Also Spencer has made some interesting suggestions concerning topics used on some Sundays; English Preaching in the Late Middle Ages, pp. 28–29.

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creative imagination to make the right connections. For example Jesus’ parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19–31) which was used as a Gospel reading for the ﬁrst Sunday after Holy Trinity, suggests the obvious topics of wealth, poverty, and the social problems caused by their uneven distribution. On the other hand the Gospel text of the second Sunday after Epiphany, that is, the story of the marriage feast of Cana ( John 2:1–11) suggests a number of possible topics, such as marriage, miracles or wine. From the studies of David d’Avray we know that preachers mostly ignored other possibilities and settled on the marriage topic. Every Rose has its Thorn – the Limits and Shortcomings of the Method The idea of a mental calendar of medieval preaching is based on the assumption that there were indeed diﬀerent topics that were preached on regular Sundays year in year out. This, however, remains a hypothesis, not a proven fact. There are two important questions that need to be asked. The ﬁrst is whether all the Sundays were indeed thematic, that is, is it truly possible to isolate a single, predetermined topic or group of topics for each and every Sunday? As we have seen, with some readings it was quite obvious what topics would be preached about, whereas with others, one needed more imagination to discover suitable topics. Is it true that there was a long lasting consensus on what was to be preached even in connection with these less obvious readings. But were there Sundays when the preacher was free to expound the text as he saw ﬁt? Is it the case that the mental calendar was not complete, that is, there were Sundays without any designated topic to be handled in sermons? This brings us to the fundamental question of whether there existed any real consensus on what was to be preached and when. It seems obvious that at least in theory there was no such table of subjects for every Sunday of the year. It seems more plausible that the conventions that have been found in connection with certain Sundays are more based on custom than any normative system or guide book. This means that it is not necessarily the case that every Sunday had its particular topic dictated by age-old custom. The second problem is whether a method that seems to work well with

302

 

thirteenth-century sermons is equally useful for the study of late medieval sermons. The few existing studies based on d’Avray’s method have so far been concentrated on thirteenth- and early fourteenth-century sermons with the sole exception of his own article which compares thirteenth- and seventeenth-century sermons on the Gospel of the marriage feast in Cana. In this article d’Avray proves that the topic of marriage continued to be handled on the second Sunday after the Epiphany ‘‘well into the eighteenth century, and very probably beyond.’’21 Can these ﬁndings concerning the longue durée of the second Sunday after the Epiphany be generalised to all the surviving medieval sermon material? Did the same topics always survive from thirteenth-century sermons until the end of the Middle Ages? Let us suppose that someone is looking for sermon material dealing with the morality of the clergy. It was an issue that was common enough, not just in sermons of one particular Sunday, but in any medieval sermon. However, if one is looking for a Sunday that would be dedicated to priestly duties, its requirements and the moral hazards involved, there seems to be only one promising possibility: the ﬁrst Sunday after the Octave of Easter. The Gospel reading of that Sunday was Jesus’ parable of the good shepherd (John 10:11–18). It is a perfect story for anyone wanting to discuss the clergy. There is the ﬁgure of good shepherd – a perfect role model for a good priest or prelate. Then there is the ﬁgure of hireling who stands for everything that was considered to be problematic in the behaviour of the clergy. Furthermore it was an age-old tradition to use the shepherd as a symbol of priest or prelate. The Dominican Hugo de Prato’s (†1322) sermon on the text Ego sum pastor bonus (John 10:14) proves this assumption right. It is divided into ﬁve parts. The ﬁrst part concerns the good shepherd and his work so that we might imitate them. The second deals with the hireling and his faults so that we might avoid becoming similar to him. The third is on the wolf, that is, the devil who is trying to devour the ﬂock. The fourth describes the work of the Christ’s sheep, that is, good Christians so that we might do good works. The ﬁfth tells of the collecting of the sheep into one fold, that is, the Roman

21

D’Avray, ‘‘The Gospel of the Marriage Feast of Cana,’’ p. 136.

     

303

Church.22 The two ﬁrst parts of the division seem to reﬂect the duties of priests and prelates, and indeed, Hugo gives them plenty of attention. He states that in order to be good shepherds they ought to be virtuous, not like some prelates who only teach virtues but do not practise them personally. Such priests are like candles that illuminate others but burn themselves. Secondly, good prelates have to enter the Church in a decent manner, that is, through Christ. This means that they need to have right faith, suﬃcient learning, and they have to be elected according to canon law. Furthermore, they need to have right intention, that is, they should be more interested in spiritual things than material gain. Again Hugo complains that there are many who do not enter the Church properly, but with the help of good connections, relatives, money or power. The third requirement of the good shepherd is that he knows his sheep. Some people are in need of mercy and comfort, others need to be corrected, yet others need advice and guiding, some people need to be helped and defended. Some people have to be tolerated, others must be expelled from the church. A priest as a doctor of souls needs to know the sicknesses of his congregation to ﬁnd the right cure. Fourthly, a good shepherd needs to have a special love for his sheep. He has to take care of the spiritual and physical well being of his ﬂock. The latter signiﬁes the distribution of alms according to the needs of the poor in the congregation. Fifthly, he has to show the right way to his sheep. This is done by personally showing a good example of virtuous living to them. The sixth point is that a good shepherd has to lead his ﬂock to pastures. This is done with the words of truth, the bread of charity, and holy communion. Finally, he has to look after his ﬂock and protect them against wolves and beasts, that is, heretics and vices. Having expounded these seven requirements of the good shepherd, Hugo moves on to de-

22 Hugo de Prato, Sermones de tempore (Nürnberg, 1483). Sermo 50. Dominica prima post octauas pasce de euangelio. Sic ergo Christus in hoc euangelium ad imitationem nos prouocans bonum pastorem se nominat. In quo quidem euangelio quinque facit. Primo quidem introducit pastorem bonum et opus eius describit, ut post ipsam eamus. In principio euangelii. Secundo ostendit mercennarium pastorem et opus eius describit ut ipsam reprobemus et fugiamus ibi: ‘‘Mercenarius autem qui non est pastor’’. Tercio opus lupi seuientis ut ipsum caueamus describit ibi: ‘‘Lupus rapit et dispergit.’’ Quarto ostendit opera ouium Christi ut ipsa faciamus ibi: ‘‘Cognoscunt me mee.’’ Quinto ostendit opportunitatem et congruentiam ouium congregandarum in uno ouili Christi ut Dei gratiam cognoscamus ibi.

304

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scribe the qualities of the hireling, which, not surprisingly, turn out to be opposites of the virtues of a good shepherd. Hugo de Prato’s sermon on the ﬁrst Sunday after the Octave of Easter can be read as a speculum prelatorum. It gives a comprehensive picture of the requirements of a good priest and shortcomings to be avoided. It also makes a few rather sharp comments on the current situation.23 The problem is that not all of the sermons of this Sunday deal with the same topics. For example Peregrinus de Oppeln’s (†1322) sermon on the same thema does not have anything at all to say about priests and prelates. He expounded the text according to its original spirit interpreting the ﬁgure of good shepherd to stand for Jesus.24 Further problems were encountered with ﬁfteenth-century sermons for the ﬁrst Sunday after the Octave of Easter. Some preachers, such as Johannes von Werden (†1437) followed the spirit of the Gospel and interpreted the good shepherd as Jesus, hence they did not preach about the clergy at all.25 Johannes Herolt (†1468) in his collection Discipulus starts by stating that: ‘‘It is to be known that by the shepherd in this present Gospel is understood a prelate, and by the sheep his subordinates.’’ When one reads on it becomes obvious that the prelates Johannes had in his mind were not ecclesiastical persons at all, but lay authorities! He wrote his sermon on the duties of the secular lords and rulers on the one hand, and their subjects’ duties on the other hand.26 Even if many of the ﬁfteenth century sermons turned out to be disappointing from the point of view of clerical moralities, there were also others that followed Hugo de Prato’s scheme. There is a Latin sermon by Bernardino da Siena for the ﬁrst Sunday after the

23 Ibid.: Sunt autem quidam prelati qui solum docent alios uirtutes, ipsi habere non curant.; Sed heu hodie, quia quasi omnes non intrant per ostium, sed ascendunt aliunde, scilicet, per alios gradus qui sunt quatuor, scilicet, amicitia secularis, parentela carnalis, pecunia et potentia. And elsewhere he writes: Nam quasi omnes mediante temporali mercede obtinent ecclesias et prebendas. 24 Peregrini de Opole Sermones de tempore et de sanctis, ed. R. Tatarzynski, Institutum Thomisticum, coll. Studia Przegladu Tomistycznego 1 (Warsaw, 1997). Sermo in dominica secunda post pascha, pp. 135–38. 25 Johannes von Werden, Dormi secure de tempore, dominica prima post octavas pasce (Augusta, 1485). 26 Johannes Herolt, Sermones de tempore discipulus, sermo 59 (sine loco, sine anno, Città del Vaticano, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana Bibl. Ross. 1273–1274), ﬀ. 219v.–222r. Sciendum quod per pastorem presenti euangelio intellegitur prelatus et per oues intelliguntur subditi.

     

305

Octave of Easter. It interprets the Gospel text in manner that resembles Hugo de Prato’s sermon closely enough to make one suspect he had read Hugo’s de tempore collection.27 Later Observant Franciscan preachers Antonio da Bitonto (†1465) and Giacomo della Marca (†1476) paraphrased Bernardino’s sermon.28 Paulus Wann (†1489) preached on both secular and clerical leaders. His sermon castigated simoniacs and those priests who were more interested in temporal proﬁts than saving souls.29 These examples should suﬃce to show that it was possible to interpret and expound Jesus’ parable of the good shepherd in various diﬀerent ways. Testing the Method As we have seen the calendar of medieval preaching remains very much under-developed; only four Sundays have been analysed using a reasonable number of sermons. This means that there are nearly ﬁfty Sundays that remain outside our knowledge and therefore one cannot categorically say that the method is valid for the whole liturgical year. It seems likely that there are a few Sundays that had readings that were open to diﬀerent interpretations and were used to discuss diﬀerent topics. On the other hand, some important topics were dealt with on several Sundays, not only once a year. This means that the number of issues that had their own speciﬁc Sunday was limited. There were not enough Sundays to cover every marginal issue. It is impossible to do a study of all the Sundays within the scope of a single article with adequate material. Thus what follows is a case study of three randomly selected Sundays, namely Sundays from tenth to twelfth Sunday after the Holy Trinity, and a few important model sermon collections as a sample to test the method. For each Sunday sermons from eight preachers, four from the thir27 S. Bernardini Senensis Opera Omnia, tomus  (Quaracchi, 1959), pp. 408–20, Sermo : De rectoribus et praelatis. 28 S. Iacobus de Marchia, Sermones dominicales, ed. Renato Lioi, Tome 2 (Ancona, 1978), pp. 162–76. Dominica secunda post pasca. Sermo ad clerum; Antonius de Bitonto, Sermones dominicales, Dominica prima post paschae, de oﬃcio pastoris (Venezia, 1496), fols. 60v–61v. 29 Paulus Wann, Sermones de tempore, dominica prima post octauam pasce (Hagenau, 1491), fols. B2v–B5v.

306

 

teenth or early fourteenth century and four from the ﬁfteenth century, are analysed. All these sermons are from de tempore/dominicales model sermon collections, and have their thema from the Gospel readings of the Sunday in question. Thus we have corpus of thirtytwo sermons.30 The choice of the preachers and texts included follows no particular logic, but was based on the material that was readily available. This, however, does not mean that the chosen sermons and preachers are untypical or statistically bad examples. On the contrary, they were best-sellers in their own time. The Gospel reading of the tenth Sunday after Holy Trinity is Luke’s description of how Jesus enters Jerusalem and weeps over it (Luke 19:41–48). This Gospel passage allows several diﬀerent subjects to be discussed. For example, the weeping of Jesus over Jerusalem allowed preachers to analyze the future destiny of the Jews and Jerusalem; and it also allowed for a discussion of Jesus weeping. Another possible point of discussion was Jesus casting out of the moneylenders from the temple. In our study some preachers began by focusing on the destiny of Jerusalem that Jesus had foretold. They give rather long summaries of the events as told by Josephus. Then they generally turn to a moral version where Jerusalem is understood as the universal church and the sins of Jerusalem oﬀer an opportunity to expound on sins and sinfulness in general. For example, Berthold von Regensburg remarks that Jesus did not weep over the building stones of the city, but over the sins of its inhabitants.31 Then he uses the rest of the sermon to deal with diﬀerent sins, especially that of avarice. Out of the ten sermons for this Sunday, three take this approach.32 Three other sermons concentrated on weeping. They repeat the topos of the ﬁve times when Jesus wept in this world, and tell what he meant to teach us with his tears.33 According to Vincent Ferrer († 1419) Jesus wept when:34 he was born to show us that this world is a place of misery; in circumcision because of the hu30 For a list of the names of the preachers, their sermons, and where the sermons are located in this case study see the Appendix to this article. 31 See Appendix, Berthold von Regensburg, T50. 32 See Appendix, Berthold von Regensburg T50; Meﬀreth T50 Videns Ihesus civitatem (both sermons with that theme). 33 See Appendix, Gerard de Mailly T50; Antonius de Bitonto T50; and Vincent Ferrer T50, Videns Ihesus civitatem ﬂevit super illam. 34 See Appendix, Vincent Ferrer T50, Videns Ihesus civitatem ﬂevit super illam.

     

307

man weakness that is especially manifested in sexual organs; when Lazarus was resuscitated for he had died in mercy and thus resuscitation could endanger his soul; when he entered Jerusalem and wept over the ﬁve evils that were to come upon the city;35 and in His passion and death for the instruction of mortal man. The ﬁve cases in which Jesus wept remain more or less the same in diﬀerent sermons but their allegorical interpretation is often diﬀerent. The last four sermons each took a completely diﬀerent approach.36 Guibert de Tournai (†1288) used the thema: Domus mea domus orationis est (Luke 19:46) and interpreted it allegorically. The house stands for a human soul which is presented as God’s home. The threefold division of the sermon develops around this allegory. The ﬁrst part tells how the soul is made suitable for God through chastity, mercy and love. The second part instructs one how to pray, and the third part tells how one’s soul is turned into a den of thieves through sins – especially pride, lechery, avarice and sloth.37 Johannes von Werden expounds his theme Videns Iesus civitatem ﬂevit super illam (Luke 19:41) starting from the word city. He says that there are four cities in which all the creatures live, that is, this world, conscience, hell and the heavenly city. The meaning of all these four is meticulously explained in the four parts of the division.38 Vincent Ferrer’s sermon on the theme Erat quotidie docens in templo (Luke 19:47) is divided into three parts that deal with compassion, an allegorical interpretation of Jesus’ prediction concerning the fall of Jerusalem and an explanation of what Christ was doing when he chased the money lenders out of the temple. Vincent writes: We read in the Bible that Jesus did not hit anyone except in this passage. There were many sins in Jerusalem, but, with the exception of this case, we read that he did not correct them with hands but with words. In this you can observe how much it displeases God when something that

35 These are expounded moraliter and transferred to Vincent’s own time to mean spiritual famine at the lack of proper preaching, lechery, hatred, the captivity of sins, and the destruction of Christianity because of the sinfulness of the times. 36 See Appendix, Guibert de Tournai T50; Johannes von Werden T50; Vincent Ferrer T50, Erat quotidie docens in templo; and Meﬀreth T50, Ingressus in templum cepit eiicere vendentes et ementes. 37 See Appendix, Guibert de Tournai, T50. 38 See Appendix, Johannes von Werden, Dominica, T50.

308

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ought not to be done in churches is done, as do those who want to dance in the churches during vigils and weddings.39

Vincent’s sermon ought to be read against the background of numerous councils and synods that forbade trade, dances, and other illicit activities in churches and cemeteries. Finally Meﬀreth (takes the theme Ingressus in templum cepit eiicere vendentes et ementes (Luke 19:45). The sermon is divided into two main parts. The ﬁrst one concerns the power of Christ and his zeal for the correction of sinners. In practice it turns out to be a small tractate on the trade, merchants, and sins typical of them. The latter part is about Christ’s fervour towards the temple interpreted allegorically (temple = Christian church), tropologically (temple = human soul), and anagogically (temple = heaven).40 The Gospel reading for the eleventh Sunday after Holy Trinity was Jesus’ parable of two men who went up into the temple to pray (Luke 18:9–14). The Pharisee prayed exalting himself and thanking God for his own goodness, whereas the publican asked mercy because of his grave sins. Jesus explained that the publican ‘‘went down into his house justiﬁed rather than the other; because every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.’’ The obvious topics to be preached about on the basis of this reading were the sin of pride and the virtue of humility and, indeed, eight out of twelve sermons on this Sunday deal with pride, humility, or both.41 The last four sermons deal with diﬀerent topics. Berthold von Regensburg wrote about eight diﬀerent types of penitents, seven bad and one good. Even so his sermon deals with pride since the ﬁrst category of evil penitents are the proud. Then follow the normal issues preachers took up in connection with confession, such as dilation, desperation, and hypocrisy.42 Meﬀreth 39 See Appendix, Vincent Ferrer, T50: Moraliter: non legitur in tota Biblia quod Christus percussit aliquem nisi hic in isto puncto. Multa peccata erant in ciuitate Hierosalem, sed non legitur quod manibus correxit eos, sed ore reprehendo nisi hic. In quo potestis notare quantum displicet Deo quando in ecclesia ﬁunt aliqua que non debent ﬁeri, sicut faciunt nonnulli qui uolunt in ecclesiis corizare in uigiliis et in nuptiis. 40 See Appendix, Meﬀreth, T50, Ingressus in templum cepit eiicere vendentes et ementes. 41 See Appendix, Guibert de Tournai, T51; Gerard de Mailly, T51; Antonius de Bitonto, T51; Meﬀreth, T51, Phariseus stans hec apud se orabat; Meﬀreth, T51, Publicanus stans a longe nolebat oculos ad celum levare; Vincent Ferrer, T51, Omnis qui se exaltat humiliabitur; Vincent Ferrer, T51, Deus propicius esto mihi peccatori; and Johannes von Werden, T51. 42 See Appendix, Berthold von Regensburg, T51.

     

309

interprets the temple as the church and expounds the Gospel as an instruction how one should go to church. According to him it is done properly through eight moral steps. These are: forgetting temporal things, knowing oneself, that is, acknowledging one’s sinfulness, humility of the heart, contrition, distribution of alms, closing one’s exterior senses, postponing all the complaints, and devout listening to the Mass.43 Vincent Ferrer has two sermons, one of which deals with how one enters heaven and the other how one enters hell. The ﬁrst one arises from an anagogic interpretation in which the temple is heaven.44 The second was probably written as an addition to the ﬁrst one, that is, to handle the other side of the matter.45 Finally we turn to the twelfth Sunday after Holy Trinity. The reading was the story of Jesus healing two men one deaf and the other mute in Sidon (Mark 7:31–37). One would assume that sermons on this particular reading would concentrate on the miracle of healing, most likely allegorically interpreted so that sickness would represent sin. This indeed was the approach taken by seven sermons out of ten. However, looking at the sermons brought up another topic. The last verse of the reading (Mark 7:37) describes people stunned by the miracle saying to each other: ‘‘He hath done all things well.’’ Two preachers, Berthold von Regensburg and Vincent Ferrer, expound these words to mean God’s miraculous works such as creation, saving sinners and the last judgement.46 Gerard de Mailly (†1294) takes his theme not from the Gospel reading, but from Psalm 69. The theme Deus in adiutorium meum intende (Psalm 69:2) is related to seven situations in which man needs God’s help and how that help is given in the form of the seven sacraments. Thus the sermon is principally about the sacraments. It is interesting to note that even if Gerard de Mailly does not use the customary Gospel reading, he chooses a passage from the Psalm that ﬁts in nicely with the Gospel reading’s message. This conﬁrms the idea that Sunday sermons in most cases followed the spirit of the Gospel or, less often, Epistle reading. Thus if we put together

43

See Appendix, Meﬀreth, T50.

See Appendix, Vincent Ferrer, T51, Homines ascenderunt in templum.

45 See Appendix, Vincent Ferrer, T51, Deus propicius esto mihi peccatori.

46 See Appendix, Berthold von Regensburg, T52; Vincent Ferrer T52 Admirabantur

dicentes quia omnia bene fecit. 44

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the information gained from this examination of three Sundays we notice that in the case of the tenth and the twelfth Sunday after Holy Trinity there were two possible topics to be preached about, and in the case of the eleventh Sunday, there was only one subject that was tackled in almost all the sermons in our sample. On the basis of this evidence we can assume there was some kind of agenda of preaching for each Sunday of the liturgical year, not only for important feasts and liturgical periods, such as Lent, but also for more obscure Sundays. Furthermore, it needs to be stressed that there was no major diﬀerence between the thirteenth-century sermons and ﬁfteenth-century sermons. Both generally followed an agenda of preaching, and in both sets of sermons there were exceptions that did not. Thus, at least on the basis of this evidence, it seems that a method of constructing the mental calendar of medieval preaching is relevant for late medieval sermons too. Despite the existence of often repeated topics, we notice, especially in the case of the tenth and eleventh Sunday after Holy Trinity, that this agenda was not necessarily followed by all the preachers.The agenda was not oﬃcial, but rather dependent on the copying tradition of the sermons. Therefore it was quite legitimate for preachers to deal with other topics when necessary. In fact, in such cases they produced some of the most interesting sermons of this selection, such as the third sermon on the tenth Sunday after Holy Trinity by Meﬀreth, which includes a thorough treatment of the sins of merchants.47 This, however, does not diminish the value of the method. We have seen that a reasonable number of Sunday sermons indeed followed a certain agenda which was based on the substance of the Gospel readings of the Sunday. From the historian’s point of view it is not a serious problem if one ﬁnds that, say, only six sermons out of ten deal with the material one is expecting to ﬁnd in them. Conclusions In the light of sermons analysed above it is obvious that the method suggested by David d’Avray is not all embracing and does not give

47

See Appendix, Meﬀreth, T50, Ingressus in templum cepit eiicere vendentes et ementes.

     

311

answers to all the questions one would like to put with regard to medieval Sunday sermons. We have seen that not all the Gospel or Epistle readings were so obvious that they gave rise to only one kind of interpretation. Sometimes the readings were less clear-cut and therefore the preachers reached diﬀerent solutions concerning the topics to be preached. However, the tentative conclusion based on the small sample of sermons seems to be that if there was not one single topic there were at least two or three signiﬁcant topics for each Sunday. Furthermore, it seems clear that most of the sermons were faithful to the spirit of the Gospel readings, that is, sermons were discussing more or less the same issues as the Gospel text. A more signiﬁcant issue is the nature of the topics that were given their own Sunday. As we have seen they were often catechetically important issues, such as the seven capital sins, the decalogue, the seven sacraments and so on. In fact, one might add, they were exactly those issues that parish priests were supposed to know and to teach to their ﬂocks and indeed, Sunday sermons often commented upon these very issues. This concentrating on theologically and catechetically important issues means that not all the issues that would interest historians were important enough to have their own Sunday. This does not mean that such issues were not dealt with at all. What it does mean is that ﬁnding the relevant sermon material to study them is diﬃcult. Despite its limitations and shortcomings, it seems obvious that ‘‘the mental calendar of medieval preaching’’ can indeed be constructed. As a method it is invaluable for scholars working in the ﬁeld of medieval Sunday sermons.

312

 

A: P  S     C S

For the sake of brevity only the most essential information is included in this appendix. The following information is given on each sermon: their dating, their sigla according to Johan-Baptist Schneyer’s system, the thema of the sermon, and the source used in this essay. References to Schneyer’s Repertorium are also given for thirteenth- and early fourteenth-century sermons. Antonio da Bitonto OFM de obs., Sermones dominicales per totum annum (Frankfurt, 1496).

Antonio’s sermon collection was dedicated to Federico , duke of Urbino

who ruled from 1444 until his death in 1482.48 This dates his sermon col lection between 1444 and his own death in 1465.

T50 Cum appropinquaret Iesus Hierusalem viden civitatem ﬂevit super illam, ﬀ.

104r–106v.

T51 Dixit Iesus ad quosdam qui in se conﬁdebant tamquam iusti, ﬀ. 106v–109v.

T52 Exiens Iesus de ﬁnibus Tyri venit per Sydonem ad mare Galilee, ﬀ. 109v–113v.

Berthold von Regensburg OFM, Sermones rusticani de dominicis. Mün chen, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek CLM 5531.

Written shortly after 1255.49

T50 Et erat docens cottidie in templo. Schneyer , p. 476, no. 45. CLM, ﬀ.

61v–62v.

T51 Duo homines ascendebant in templum. Schneyer , 476, no. 47. CLM 5531,

ﬀ. 62v–64r.

T52 Admirabantur dicentes bene omnia fecit. Schneyer , 476, no. 48. CLM

5531, ﬀ. 64r–65r.

Gerard de Mailly OP, Sermones de tempore. Uppsala, Uppsala universitets

bibliotek MS C 351.

Written sometime before 1273.50

T50 Uidens ihesus ciuitatem. Schneyer , p. 487, no. 67. C 351, ﬀ.

108r–111r.

48 Antonio da Bitonto OFM de obs., Sermones dominicales per totum annum (Frankfurt, 1496), fol. 1r. 49 Jussi Hanska and Antti Ruotsala, ‘‘Berthold von Regensburg, OFM, and the Mongols – Medieval Sermon as a Historical Source,’’ Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 89 (1996), 429. 50 Louis-Jacques Bataillon and Nicole Bériou, ‘‘«G. de Mailly» de l’ordre des fréres précheurs,’’ Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 61 (1990), 23.

     

313

T51 Deus propitius esto mihi peccatori. Schneyer , p. 488, no. 68. C 351, ﬀ.

111r–113v.

T52 Deus in adiutorium meum intende. Schneyer , p. 488, no. 69. C 351, ﬀ.

113v–116v.

Guibert de Tournai OFM, Sermones de tempore. Uppsala, Uppsala univer-

sitets bibliotek MS C 413.

Written at the request of the Pope Alexander  sometime during his pa pacy 1254–1261.51

T50 Domus mea domus orationis est. Schneyer , p. 287, no. 63. C 413, ﬀ.

268v–271r.

T51 Qui se humiliat exaltabitur. Schneyer , p. 287, no. 64. C 413, ﬀ.

271r–273r.

T52 Bene omnia fecit. Schneyer , p. 287, no. 65. C 413, ﬀ. 273v–276r.

Hugo de Prato OP, Sermones dominicales super euangelia et epistolas per totum

annum (Nürnberg, 1483).

Written in the early fourteenth century.52

T50 Cum appropinquaret Ihesus Hierosolymam videns civitatem ﬂevit super illam. Schneyer , p. 750, no.95.

T51 Dixit Ihesus ad quosdam qui in se conﬁdebant. Schneyer , p. 750, no. 97.

T52 Exiens Ihesus de ﬁnibus Tyri. Schneyer , p. 750, no. 99.

Johannes von Werden OFM, Sermones dominicales dormi secure (Basel,

1484).

Written in the early ﬁfteenth century.

T50 Videns Iesus civitatem ﬂevit super illam, ﬀ. o1r–o3r.

T51 Qui se humiliat exaltabitur, ﬀ. o3r–o4v.

T52 Surdos fecit audire, ﬀ. o4v–o6v.

Meﬀreth OFM, Pars hyemalis sermonum Meﬀreth alius Ortulus regine

(Nürnberg, 1487).

Meﬀreth records in his prologue that he wrote his sermon collection

Hortulus reginae in 1444.53

T50 Videns Ihesus civitatem, ﬀ. yy2r–yy3v.

T50 Videns Ihesus civitatem, ﬀ. yy3v–yy5r.

T50 Ingressus in templum cepit eiicere vendentes et ementes, ﬀ. yy5r–yy6v.

T51 Duo homines ascenderunt in templum, ﬀ. yy6v–zzv.

51

Jussi Hanska, The Social Ethos in Mendicant Sermons, p. 187. Jussi Hanska, The Social Ethos in Mendicant Sermons, p. 188. 53 Meﬀreth OFM., Pars hyemalis sermonum Meﬀreth alius Ortulus regine (Nürnberg, 1487), fol. 1r. 52

314

 

T51 Phariseus stans hec apud se orabat, ﬀ. zzv–zz3r.

T51 Publicanus stans a longe nolebat oculos ad celum leuare, ﬀ. zz3r–zz4r.

T52 Adducunt ei surdum et mutum, ﬀ. zz4r–zz5v.

T52 Adducunt ei surdum et mutum, ﬀ. zz5v–zz6v.

T53 Et deprecantur eum ut illi manus imponeret, ﬀ. zz6v–Aa2v.

Vincent Ferrer OP, Sermones sancti Vincentii fratris ordinis predicatorum de

tempore. Pars estivalis (Nürnberg, 1492).

Late fourteenth or early ﬁfteenth century.

T50 Erat quotidie docens in templo, ﬀ. xx4r–xx6v.

T50 Videns Ihesus civitatem ﬂevit super illam, ﬀ.yyv–yy3r.

T51 Omnis qui se exaltat humiliabitur, ﬀ. yy5r–yy6v.

T51 Homines ascenderunt in templum, ﬀ. zz2v–zz3v.

T51 Amen dico vobis, ﬀ. zz3v–zz5r.

T51 Deus propicius esto mihi peccatori, ﬀ. zz5r–zz6r.

T52 Admirabantur dicentes quia omnia bene fecit, ﬀ. zz6r–zz7v.

T52 Precepit eis ne cui dicerent, ﬀ. zz7v–AA1r.

     

315

Select Bibliography d’Avray, David L., ‘‘The Gospel of the Marriage Feast of Cana and Marriage Preaching in France,’’ in The Bible in the Medieval World. Essays in Memory of Beryl Smalley, ed. K. Walsh and D. Wood, Studies in Church History, Subsidia 4 (Oxford, 1985), pp. 207–24. —, The Preaching of the Friars. Sermons diﬀused from Paris before 1300 (Oxford, 1985). —, ‘‘Method in the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ in Modern Questions about Medieval Sermons. Essays on Marriage, Death, History and Sanctity, ed. Nicole Bériou and David L. d’Avray, Biblioteca «Medioevo Latino» 11 (Spoleto, 1994), pp. 3–29. Bataillon, Louis-Jacques, ‘‘Approaches to the Study of Medieval Sermons,’’ Leeds Studies in English, new series 11 (1980), 19–35. Bataillon, Louis-Jacques and Bériou, Nicol, ‘‘«G. de Mailly» de l’ordre des fréres précheurs,’’ Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 61 (1990), 5–88. Bériou, Nicole, L’Avènement des maîtres de la parole. La prédication à Paris au e siècle, 2 vols. Collection des Études Augustiniennes serie Moyen Âge et temps modernes 31 (Paris, 1998). Cardini, Franco, ‘‘Aspetti ludici, scenici e spettacolari della predicazione francescana,’’ in Franco Cardini, Minima mediaevalia (Firenze, 1987), pp. 187–210. Dickson, Gary, ‘‘Encounters in Medieval Revivalism: Monks, Friars, and Popular Enthusiasts,’’ Church History 69, no. 2 (1999), 265–93. Ferzoco, George, ‘‘The Schneyer Archive,’’ Medieval Sermon Studies 39 (1997), 6–8. Hanska, Jussi, ‘‘And the Rich Man also died; and He was buried in Hell’’. The Social Ethos in Mendicant Sermons, Bibliotheca historica 28 (Helsinki, 1997). Hanska, Jussi and Ruotsala, Antti, ‘‘Berthold von Regensburg, OFM, and the Mongols – Medieval Sermon as a Historical Source,’’ Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 89 (1996), 425–45. Martin, Hervé, Le métier de prédicateur à la ﬁn du Moyen Age 1350–1520 (Paris, 1988). Schmitt, Jean-Claude, Il gesto nel Medioevo (Roma, 1991). Schneyer, Johan Baptist, Repertorium der lateinischen Sermones des Mittelalters für die Zeit von 1150–1350, 11 vols. (Münster, 1969–1990). Spencer, Helen Leith, English Preaching in the Late Middle Ages (Oxford, 1993). Thompson, Augustine, Revival Preachers and Politics in the Thirteenth-Century Italy: The Great Devotion of 1233 (Oxford, 1992).

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GENERAL INDEX Abelard, Peter—264 Acta Martyrum—53 Admonitio Generalis—(879) 30 Ælfric—203–27 Afonso Abelho—114 Aigrain, René—279 Alan of Lille—77, 95, 99, 167, 255 De planctu naturae—81

Summa de arte praedicatoria—46–47,

97 Alatri, Mariano d’—28 Albert of Trapani—182 Alcuin—42 Alexander , pope—146 Alexander of Ashby—49 Ambrogio Lorenzetti—106, 139–41 frescoes—141–45 Ambrose—53, 182 in art—183 Amerbach, Johann—184 Angers—106 Antonio da Bitonto—305, 312 Anselm—56, 257 Anthony of Padua,—27, 184, 185, 281, 300 Aquinas, Thomas—28, 77, 237 art 129, 190, 194 De regno ad regem Cypri—84 Aristotle—77 Arnold of Liège—54 ars concionandi—98 ars praedicandi—41–62, 89, 92, 98, 101, 104, 122–23 art—33, 105 and education—132 and preaching—5–6, 127–53, 155–80, 181–200 audience (see preachers) Augustine—44, 76, 77, 98–99, 182, 183

City of God—182

De doctrina christiana—41, 43, 95, 100 Augustinan friars—182 Austin, J.L.—90 Avignon papacy—63–86 Avray, David L. d’,—21, 298, 300, 301, 310 Baldwin of Canterbury—28 Bartolomeo da Trento—283 Bartolomea degli Alberti—133, 236 Bataillon, Louis-Jacques—16 Bateson, Gregory—90 Beleth, John—177 Beatiﬁc Vision—68 Beauchamp, Thomas—176 Bellini, Jacopo—186 Bériou, Nicole—15–17 Benedict  (pope)—63 Benedict  (pope)—34 Benedictines—160, 203–27, 258 Benedict of Nursia—213 Bernard of Clairvaux—76, 77, 104, 107, 110, 112, 113, 117, 121, 169, 263 Bernardino da Siena,—20, 23, 35, 104, 105, 106, 108, 112, 115, 116, 121, 122, 130–31, 229–30, 239, 297, 304–305 art—135–45, 184, 185–89 Cult of the Holy Name of Jesus—35, 106, 118, 136, 185–86, 188, 294–95 Massa Marittima—144 quaresimale—135 witches—119 Bernardino of Feltre—184 Berthold von Regensburg—293–94, 308, 309, 312 Bertrand du Poujet—78 Bethurum, Dorothy—205 Biard, Nicholas—281

318



Bible—59, 60, 73, 74, 75–76, 83 Biglia, Andrea—136 Birgitta of Sweden—94 Revelations—94 Black Death—240 Blickling homilies—203 Bloch, Maurice—93 Bollandistes—279 Acta Sanctorum—279

Bolland, Jean—279

Delehaye, Hippolyte—279

Bonaventure—98, 184, 189, 281, 300 Borgsleben, Christian—51 Bremond, Claude—52 Brinton, Thomas—160–61 Bromyard, John— Summa Praedicantum—161 Buoni, John—114 Caesarius of Arles—210, 220–21 Caesarius of Heisterbach—121 Callixtus , pope—181 Calo, Peter—283 Caplan, Henry—48 Carmelites—182 Cassian, John—212–14, 216–17 De institutis coenobiorum—212 Cassidorus—42 Catherine of Siena—232–33, 236 Cato the Elder—65 Celestine  (see Peter of the Murrone) Cerne Abbas—204, 222 Cerretani, Angelo—67, 71, 73, 76, 79, 82, 83 Charles  of France—145 Christ—42, 68, 84 in art—161, 162, 168–69 Chobham, Thomas—49, 95, 101 chronicles—25–26 Cicero—43, 47, 49, 95 Rhertoric ad Herennium—42 Cistercians—54, 113 Exordium magnum cisterciense—113 Clayton, Mary—204–05, 206–07 Clement , pope—63–64, 82, 83 constitutions Arundel’s (1407)—32

Wolsey’s York (1518)—32

councils Bologna (1233) Constance (1414–18) Lateran  (1215)—31–32, 45 Nantes (1431) Pisa (1409) Cross, J.E.—220 cult of saints—280–81 Dalarun, Jacques—287 Damien, Peter—54 Danse macabre—106 Debby, Nirit Ben-Aryeh—106 distinctiones—58, 59 Dominic—110, 117 in art—190–92 Dominicans,—28–29, 30, 35, 68, 120, 132, 145 Prouille—117 Santa Maria Novella—21 Drogo, cardinal—76 Dubois, Jacques—279 Durandus of Merde—177 Rationale—165 Durkhein, Émile—264 Eixemenis, Francesc—51, 95, 98, 100, 103 Élie Talleyrand de Périgord, cardinal—66, 72, 73, 74 English wall painting—155–80 Ernaldus, abbot—76 Etienne de Bourbon—115, 117 Eudes of Sully—31 Eugenius , pope—120, 181–82 Eustace of Flay—112 evangelists—79 in art—165 exempla,—24–25, 52, 56, 61, 121, 155, 156, 168–69, 170, 173, 178–79 Liber exemplorum ad usum praedicantium—54 Tabula exemplorum secundum ordinem alphabeti—54 Fanjeaux—117 Fasciculus Morum—162, 169 Fathers of the Church—43 Felip de Malla—122

 Felton, Philip—163, 164 Ferrer, Vincent—34, 108, 112, 181, 308, 309, 314 in art—195–96 Ferzoco, George—114 Florence—127 necrologies—30 ﬂorilegia—52, 55, 61 Fra Angelico—35, 132 Francesco di Gentile—188 Franciscans—26, 31, 54, 97, 107, 161 Clare of Assisi—108 Francis of Assisi—20, 105, 108, 137, 184, 185, 287 Frugoni, Chiara,—34 Gambacorti, Chiara—234 Ganz, David—215 Gatch, Milton McC.—204, 207 Geoﬀrey of Auxerre—117 Geraldus de Piscario—51 Gerard de Mailly—309, 312–13 gesture—101, 107–09 Ghibellines—84 Giacomo della Marca—305 Giordano da Pisa—134–35 Giotto—184 Giovanno da Capestrano—108, 109, 116 Giovanni di Balduccio—182 Giovanni Dominici—130–31, 231–54

art and preaching—131–35

sermons—231–51

women—231–51

Girolamo Savonarola (see Savonarola) glossa—76 Godden, Malcolm—204, 222 Gonzálo de Aguilar—66, 67, 70, 71, 73, 76, 77 Gozzoli, Benozzo—183, 194 grammar—50 Gratian Decretum—31, 77, 78, 259 Gratian of Padua—114 Great Schism—235

319

Grégoire, Réginald—279–80 Gregorian Reform—22 Gregory the Great (pope)—44, 53, 76, 95, 96, 98

art—129

Dialogues—54

Regula Pastoralis—27, 43, 47

Gregory , pope—235 Grosseteste, Robert,—32 Guglielmo da Venosa—120 Gui, Bernard—23, 283 Gui de Boulogne, cardinal—66, 71, 81, 82 Guibert de Nogent—46, 47, 57, 95, 98, 264 Guibert de Tournai—255, 307, 313 Guillaume Durand the Younger—64 Guy of les Vaux-de-Cernay—121 hagiography—25, 53–54 Handlyng Synne—170 Haymo of Faversham—293 hell—83, 100, 218 Hélinand of Froidmont—100 Henry of Clairvaux/Albano—117 Henry of Hesse—51 heretics—45, 113, 120, 122 Herolt, Johannes—304 Hildebert of Lavardin—99 Holcot, Robert—164 Honorius Augustodunensis—255, 257–65

Speculum ecclesiae—259–60

Sermo generalis—259–65

Hubert de Lorgo—169 Hugh of St Victor—101 Soliloquium de arrha—77 Hugo de Prato—302–05, 313 Humbert de Romans—47, 95, 98, 102, 255, 270–75 De eruditione praedicatorum—270–75 Iacopone da Todi—236 Ignorencia sacerdotum—158, 170, 171, 175 Imbert du Puy, cardinal—66, 73, 78 Innocent , pope—45, 76, 77 interpreters—109–10 Isidore of Seville—42

320 Jacopo da Varazze—283–92 Legenda aurea—284, 287 on St Andrew—286–92 sermones de sanctis—283–92 Jacques de Vitry—27, 102–03, 171, 255, 265–70, 282 beguines beguines—256, 268–70 Marie of Oignies—268 scholars—266–70 James of the Marches—184 Jean Bourgeois—106 Jean de Mailly—283 Jerome—76 Jerusalem—57–59, 106 Jesus (see Christ) Jews—120 Joan de Clarano—68 Johannes Balbus Catholicon—129 Johannes von Werden—304, 313 John , pope—63, 68, 78, 194 John, Eric—215 John of Capestrano—184, 188 John of Vicenza—27, 114 John of Xanten—107 John the Baptist—133 in art—103–04, 174 John the Evangelist—174 Jordan of Pisa—17 Judgement—84, 106 Justinian—79, 84 Corpus iuris civilis—77 Kempe, Marjory—26 Knowles, David—213 Langton, Stephen—45, 57, 58, 59, 60, 121 Legate, Hugh—164 Le Goﬀ, Jacques—52, 269 Lemaître, Jean-Loup—279 Leo the Great, pope—53 liturgy—27–28 papal—63–86 Sarum Use—28 Lapidge, Michael—225 law—32, 78 Leon Battista Alberti I libri della famiglia—240

 Lippi, Filippino—194 literature—33 liturgy—44 papal—63–86 lollards—159, 165, 177 Longère, Jean—27 Lorenzo di Pietro—187 Mannelli, Luca—66, 68, 72, 77, 79, 83, 84 manuscripts Cambridge, Peterhouse College—112, 60 Città del Vaticano, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Barberiano lat. 3724,—236 Florence, Biblioteca Riccardiana 1301,—237 Florence, Biblioteca Riccardiana 1313,—236 Florence, Biblioteca Riccardiana 1414,—237 Florence, Biblioteca Riccardiana 2105,—237 London, British Library, Cotton Tiberius A.,—225 Oxford, Bodleian Library, Auct F. 4.32,—225 Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France lat 16481,—256 Rome, Biblioteca Nazionale, S. Pant.19 (112),—236 Valencia, cat. bib 215,—65, 67, 75, 77, 79 Martin , pope—120, 187, 236 Martin, Hervé—20, 111 Martin of Cordova—51 Martini, Simone—106, 139–40 Mary, mother of Jesus in art—133, 161 Mary Magdalene—241 in art—197 Maurice de Sully—32, 45, 281 Maurus, Rabanus—44 Medici—145 Meﬀreth—308–10, 313 Menot, Michel—106 miracles—105, 111–15

 Mirk, John—155, 157, 161, 162, 165, 172, 174, 176–78 Mulchahey, Michèle M.,—28–29 Murphy, James J.—47, 49 Nelli, Ottiaviano—183 Nicholas —181 Nicholas of Tolentino—182 O’Keeﬀe, Katherine O’Brien—226 Odilon of Cluny—54 Oexle, Otto Gerhard—275 Oliver, Bernat—66, 69, 70, 71, 73 O’Malley, John W.,—31 Orsini, Giovanni—78 Othloh of St Emmeram—264 Owst, G.R.—161 palais des papes, chapel—63 Passion Plays—111 pastoralia—158, 174, 175 Pataria—22 Paul of Tarsus—42 in art—162, 165 Pecock, Reginald, bishop—179 Repressor—159–60 Pecham, John—32 Pedro de Luna—122 Pedro Gonçalves Telmo—114 Peraudi, Raimund—110 performance theory—89–124 Peter, saint—162, 165 Peter Lombard—77 Peter Martyr—190 in art—192–93 Peter of Blois—28 Peter of Reims—281 Peter of the Morrone—116, 187 Peter the Chanter—45, 59 Pﬁster, Manfred—92, 110 Philip of Harvengt—99–100, 261 Philip, Nicholas—163, 165 Pierre Bertrand, cardinal—66, 67, 71, 72, 78 Pierre de Préz, cardinal—66, 67, 72, 73, 76, 79, 80, 82 Piers Plowman—26 Polecritti, Cynthia—116

321

prayers Ave—31, 71 Creed—28, 31 Lord’s Prayer—28, 31 preachers in art—181–200 audience—6–7, 18–22, 65, 68, 74, 203–27, 229–54, 25576 hermits—18 preaching—42–43 art—5–6, 127–53,155–80, 181–200,

Carolingian—44

failure of—121–22

heretical—22–23

interpreters—109–10

jewish—42

lay—22

papacy—63–86

peacemakers—119

performance—5, 89–124

rhyme—70–71

tools—24–25, 41–62

Pseudo-Aquinas—51 Pseudo-Dionysius Celestial Hierarchy—273, 275 Ecclesiastical Hierarchy—275 Quintillian—53 Quinto, Riccardo—58 Reames, Sherry—287 Renaissance—65 Raymond of Capua—233 reportationes (see sermons) rhetoric—4, 41–62, 63–86, 94 ars dictaminis—42

ars poetria—42

ars praedicandi—41–62

Robert of Basevorn—51, 97, 100, 101, 103, 163 Forma praedicandi—49–50 Robert of Lecce—25, 106, 108, 111, 119 Robert de Courçon—45 Roth, Dorthea—48 Rouse, Mary A.—55 Rouse, Richard H.—55

322



Rupert of Deutz,—27, 258–59, 264

Rusconi, Roberto,—17, 34

Rustichi, Bartolommeo—182

Sacred College of Cardinals—65

Sahlin, Claire—94

Salernitano, Massucio

Novellino—186

Salimbene da Adam—23, 25, 114

Santa Mara Novella, Dominican

church—135, 232

Savonarola—230

art and preaching—127–31,

145–52

The Simplicity of Christian Life—151

Scala virtutum—216

Schechner, Ricard—92

Schmitt, Jean-Claude—52

Schneyer, Johann-Baptist—4, 299,

312

Scragg, Donald—208

Seneca—76

sermons—51

ad status collections—255–76

Carolingian—30

crusades—25

de sanctis—279–92

deﬁnition of—3

delivery—103–05

development—44

dominicales—293–315

dormi secure—285

exordium—50

historical source—7–8

inﬂuence of—115–20

Latin—17, 110

macaronic—17

protheme—50

reportationes—16–17, 23, 29, 34,

59–60, 133, 237, 298

sermo modernus vernacular—17–18, 50, 110

women—238–51

sermon studies,—4, 13–37

methodology—14–23

Sicard of Cremona,—27

Siena—119–20,

art and preaching—139–45

Sigismund of Hungary—235

similitudines—52, 56

Sisam, Celia—223

Sisam, Kenneth—207

Sixtus , pope—189

Speculum Sacerdotale—168

Spencer, H.L.—188

Stefaneschi, Jacopo—64

Strabo, Walfrid—76

Suydam, Mary—91

theatre—105, 110–11

Thomas of Celano—107–08, 184

Thomas of Ireland

Manipulus Florum—55

Thomas of Spalato—105

Thompson, Augustine—114

Tiberio of Assisi—185

transubstantiation—178

Tubach, Frederic—52–53

Turner, Victor—116

universities

cartularies—29

English—51

Padua—29

Paris—29, 48, 51, 59, 76

sermons—50–51

Urban , pope—25

Vasco del Alagoa—122

Vercelli homilies—203–27

Virtutes apostolorum co—112

vita apostolica—45

Waleys, Thomas—50, 51, 95, 98,

100, 101, 104

De modo compondendi sermones—47

Wann, Paulus—305

Webber, Teresa—215

Welter, Thomas—52, 54

Wetheringsett, Richard—174

Wheel of Fortune—106

William de Montibus—56–59

William of Auvergne

Rhetorica divina—48

William of St Amour—272–74

Wormald, Patrick—211

Wulfstan, archbishop of York—54,

203–27

Wyclif, John—159