And was the holy Lamb of God,
On Englands pleasant pastures seen!
- And did those feet, William Blake
Viser innlegg med etiketten St. Stephen Protomartyr. Vis alle innlegg
Viser innlegg med etiketten St. Stephen Protomartyr. Vis alle innlegg

søndag 30. juni 2024

Cantigas de Compostela, part 1: Saint Stephen or Saint Lucy?


In May, I spent a few days in Santiago de Compostela, a city rich in history and a place important to my own academic interests. In future blogposts, I hope to share several details from the Compostela's multilayered past, and I am collecting these posts under the header 'Cantigas de Compostela', an admittedly clumsy alliterative pun on the famous thirteenth-century collections of songs known as the Cantigas de Santa Maria.  

The first instalment in this new series is a reflection on a type of mystery specific to the scholarship on the cult of saints. As I was exploring the impressive museum of the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, I noticed a headless statue carrying two items in a bowl. According to the sign in the museum, the statue is one among several that once decorated one of the cathedral's chapels, and it was made in the middle of the sixteenth century, possibly in a Flemish workshop, or by Flemish masons working in Spain. 

The statue has been identified as Saint Lucy, a virgin martyr from Sicily who was believed to have been killed during the Diocletian persecutions of the early fourth century. Her cult was revivified following the publication of Legenda Aurea written by Jacobus de Voragine in the 1260s, and she features in many works of late-medieval art. At the time of writing, I do not know whether the identification of this statue rests on any information outside what the statue itself provides. For instance, whether there are archival material referencing these statues, earlier descriptions of the chapel from when the head was still attached, surviving fragments, or any other indicators that point in this specific directions. If we consider the statue itself, however, things are less clear.  

The best argument for Lucy as the saint in question is the the bowl containing two items. According to legend, Lucy was blinded, and her eyes became her defining attribute in art, often shown as presented on a plate or a bowl, as in the case of this statue. However, there is also another candidate, namely Saint Stephen, who was stoned to death according to the account given in Acts, and his main attribute in late-medieval art is a selection of stones. The display of these stones can differ according to the medium or the choice of the artists. In statues, the stones are typically held, whereas in paintings or frescoes the stones can be placed elsewhere, as in the case of Carlo Crivelli's rendition, where the stones are balanced on the saint's head and shoulders. In short, we have two saints who are known by their presentation of round or roundish items, and this is all we have to go on in the case of the statue in the cathedral museum. (The clothes do not yield any clues, as without the original paint, which might have included patterns that could have pointed to a specific gender or social position, they are too generic to allow for any conclusions.) 

What about the items themselves? This is, perhaps, the only clue to which we can reasonably cling. Although we should be mindful of the choices of individual artists, or at least different traditions of individual workshops, the number of items is significant. Naturally, Lucy is typically depicted with both her eyes on a plate - even though she is also typically depicted with her eyes in their original place at the same time, because she is a saint and therefore posthumously healed. The stones of Saint Stephen, on the other hand, ordinarily come in slightly higher numbers, either as a pile whose total number is only hinted at by the stones on the top and at the front of the pile, or as three or four held in the saint's hands. While it is possible that an artist or a workshop would depict only two of Saint Stephen's stones, the number does suggest that Lucy might be the correct identification. 

Ultimately, however, we do not know, but the case does serve as a good reminder of how crucial iconography is to the navigation of medieval art, and how sometimes the attribute of a saint might be the only thing that allows us to pinpoint the saint's identity.    









lørdag 6. april 2024

The early cult of saints – an attempted history

 

[The following is an attempt at a brief history of the development of the Christian cult of saints in the first 500 years. This period saw a rapid development of this phenomenon, yet the relative paucity of the sources means that it can sometimes be difficult to understand that despite the rapidity of the process, it was also piecemeal and slow, as well as both decentralised and not streamlined. What prompted me to write this text was a promise to help a colleague with providing an overview of the cult of saints, and I ended up putting together this text which is aimed at giving those unfamiliar with the topic some sense of the historical process, as well as some key terms and dates.] 



Terminology and the first hundred years    

 

The word ‘saint’ is the English translation of ‘sanctus’, which in turn is the Latin translation of the Greek ‘hagios’, which means ‘holy’. In the epistles of Paul, this term is used indiscriminately about all followers of Christ, but it later came to signify an especially holy kind of Christian. There was, in other words, a shift from the more general use of ‘hagios’ to a kind of elite Christians. Here, the elite status is based on whether they died for the faith, not their social standing or their position in the early church hierarchy. The circumstances of this shift are nebulous to us, and it was likely a gradual development that grew out of the early persecutions of Christians. (Although it is likely that the persecutions under Nero were too early to have an impact on this shift, and it is more likely that the persecutions under Domitian and Trajan had the most immediate effect – especially those of Domitian.) It is not clear how this change in terminology began, whether it was initiated by the leaders of the early congregations, or whether it emerged from common usage that eventually became the standard way of referring to those who had shown their faith more clearly and publicly. These persecutions served to solidify the sense of a shared identity among Christians, and therefore also gave root to a stronger development of a Christian collective memory. This memory was perpetuated in part through the celebration of the anniversaries of those who had died for the faith. These celebrations were held at the graves of the dead, and from this practice grew the elaborate liturgical celebrations that came into place in the fourth and fifth centuries. The day of the saint’s death became known as ‘dies natalis’, birthday, as it was the beginning of the saint’s life in Heaven. Eventually, as Christianity became more widely common and eventually legalised, the remnants of the especially holy dead Christians could be moved into churches or other sacred spaces intended for the veneration of these remnants. These remnants were relics, which were held to be sacred, and to provide a tangible contact point through which the power of God could work miracles for the glory of the saint (cf. ‘translation’ below).     

            We do not know who were the first saints. Arguably, the apostles, John the Baptist and perhaps also the Virgin Mary are likely to have been held in very high regard from the earliest stages of the Christian religion. Because the early church was both scattered and very heterogenous, however, it is doubtful that we can surmise any coherent approach to the memorialisation of those who died for the faith. In both the Latin and Greek traditions, one of the earliest saints is said to have been Polycarp of Smyrna, whose death is conventionally dated to 155 CE. Early accounts of his death were written in both Latin and Greek, which shows that there was a lot of exchange between those Christians who were Greek-speaking inhabitants of the Roman Empire – not necessarily citizens, although some, like Paul, were – and those whose main written language was Latin. Stories travelled, and so did the terminology. In some cases, this exchange led to the translation of Greek terms into Latin – ‘hagios’ to ‘sanctus’, for instance – but in other cases the Greek terms became dominant also in the Latin language. The best example of this retaining of Greek is seen in the word ‘martyr’, which means witness, and came to mean someone who bore witness to their Christian faith by accepting death rather than recanting their faith. Another of these Greek terms is ‘apostolos’, which means envoy or messenger, and which became slightly Latinized as ‘apostolus’.   

 

The early literature: c.160-c.400     

 

The account of Polycarp of Smyrna’s death – commonly known as The Martyrdom of Polycarp – is believed to have been written relatively shortly after his death, and is often dated to 160 CE. This text is interesting because it shows that many of the typical features of later literature about saints were already in place by the mid-second century CE. For instance, there is an elaborate martyrdom, the remnants of Polycarp were gathered by Christians and held in greater value than jewels – this is perhaps the earliest reference to the veneration of the relics of saints – and the text also exhibits very strong anti-Semitism. Throughout the second and third centuries, several texts about the especially holy Christians appeared, perhaps most famously the Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas, written in Carthage around the year 200 CE. In this early period, however, there was no coherent genre for writing about saints. The term ‘hagiography’, writing about the holy, was first used by Greek-speaking Jews to refer to the Ketuvim, but at some later point became adopted by Christians to refer to the accounts of saints and their deaths and deeds. As far as I know, we cannot say for certain when this terminology came into this Christian usage.

            Following the legalisation of Christianity during the reign of Emperor Constantine, the churches became more stable centres of administration and memory-production. The various church leaders were able to communicate more frequently with one another, and this exchange led to a streamlining of both terms, practices and forms of memorialisation. By Constantine’s death in in 337, the veneration of relics had become standard practice among Christians, and rich Christians had begun collecting them and turning their house complexes into memorial spaces. The memories of the recent persecutions under Diocletian – particularly in the period c.300-305 – were transformed into a collective memory that further solidified a Christian, but also a Roman Christian, identity. One of the best examples of this memory-making is Pope Damasus I (r.366-84). He himself was born around the time of the Diocletian persecutions, and as bishop of Rome he began to collect the bones of those who had died in the persecutions. These bones were placed in churches and the places of their martyrdoms were memorialised through epigrams. This effort effectively converted Rome into a Christian space, and several popular saints – such as Agnes and Sebastian – became famous through the efforts of Damasus. These epigrams were also part of the early literature about saints.

            In the second half of the fourth century, some of the most impactful texts about saints were written, and these came to establish the form that hagiography would retain throughout the medieval period and into the modern era. The biographical accounts of Martin, bishop of Tours (d.397), written by Sulpicius Severus while Martin was still alive, and the account of Anthony, the Egyptian hermit, by Bishop Athanasius of Alexandria (d.373) came to provide a template for later saint-biographers. The biography of a saint – often called ‘vita’, life, or ‘passio’, passion, or even ‘acta’, acts – typically described the saint’s childhood and background, their conversion or at least deeper commitment to Christianity, their suffering, their good deeds, their deaths, and eventually also the appearance of miracles. These two biographies also established more clearly that even those who had not died for their faith – which neither Martin not Anthony had done – could be considered holy, because their way of life had proved their commitment to Christ. They were ‘confessores’, confessors, of their faith, rather than martyrs. 

            The emergence of a more formally coherent Christian literature also led to the more coherent stylistic form of saint-biographies. Although a Christian was always supposed to imitate the life of Christ, this was paramount in the case of the saints. The early saints had imitated Christ by choosing death, and died like Christ, even though the manner of dying was not necessarily on a cross. This imitation of Christ, ‘imitatio Christi’, became more important to demonstrate with the cessation of persecutions, and the relative scarcity of new martyrdoms that followed the legalisation of Christianity. From the late fourth century onwards, therefore, saint-biographers modelled their accounts even more explicitly on episodes from the Gospels, and emphasised the parallels between the life of Christ and the saints more strongly. This practice continued throughout the medieval and modern periods.

            As part of the more formalised and streamlined cult of saints, collections of miracles became more common. I do not know exactly when such accounts of miraculous events first became committed to writing, but it is likely that an expectations of signs and miraculous cures led to orally transmitted accounts in the early period of the veneration of saints. Augustine’s City of God includes an account of the miracles said to have appeared in the wake of the finding of the body of Saint Stephen Protomartyr in 417, and the arrival of some of the relics of Stephen in Carthage in 424. The popularity of Augustine’s writings also had an impact on later miracle collections.    

 

Saints in the Christian cosmology  

 

We know little about how the earliest venerators of Christian saints understood the place of the especially holy dead in the greater scheme of things. There was an expectation of an afterlife, and most likely the saints were believed to be in Heaven. It is unclear whether the veneration of the early saints was done with the hope that those who were venerated would provide help, but such an expectation came into place as the cult of saints became more Romanised. The collection of verse biographies by the poet Prudentius – Liber Peristephanon – shows that by the turn of the fourth century, Christians in the Roman Empire, at least those who belonged to the upper classes, understood the saints as ‘advocati’, intercessors or ambassadors, in the Heavenly Senate. In other words, the system of Roman society – where the rich were patrons who bestowed favours on the common people in return for services, and where the Senate was the house of ultimate authority – was transposed onto the greater cosmology. Saints were understood as patrons, and in return for their aid – ‘beneficium’ – the living Christians performed their duties or their labours, ‘officium’. This idea of saints as interceding before God on behalf of the living has remained a key point in Christian thinking. The ‘beneficium’ usually came in the form of cures or other miraculous events by which God was believed to demonstrate the holiness of his saints. The ‘officium’ usually signified the celebration of the anniversaries of the saints, mainly their day of death or the day of the moving of the relics, the so-called translation. The term ‘officium’ later came to denote the performance of liturgical songs and readings in the course of a daily round in a church or a monastery. Saints interceded on behalf of the living, but they could also punish the living for wrongdoing, neglect of their patrons, or heresy.     

 

Continuity and discontinuity

 

There has been a lot of discussion about the degree to which we can see a continuity from the pagan polytheism to the role of the saints within Christian monotheism. The traditional argument has been that the old gods were simply replaced with different figures, and that people attributed to these figures a lot of the same properties and powers that they did the old gods. Since Peter Brown’s monograph The Cult of Saints (1981), however, the main consensus is that the situation is more complicated than that. Naturally, there might well have been Christian converts who did not discern much of a difference between the saints and the old gods, but to the Christian theologians and, indeed, to the bishops and missionaries, there were many important differences. First of all, a saint does not make any decisions of their own, but with the approval of God. Miracles, moreover, are not brought about by the saint. Instead, God performs the miracle as a favour to the saint in return for the saint’s merit – ‘meritum’ – which is the quality of the saint’s life on earth. Furthermore, while the Christians venerated the saints as heroes, and although Paul’s epistles uses terms like soldier and athlete – there was nothing physically violent about the way the saints met their demise. They fight consisted of enduring violence – often described in gruesome detail by Christian authors – and from the point of view of the pagan Romans, there was little heroic about such passivity. In other words, and following the arguments of Peter Brown, the heroes and gods of the pagan pantheon had little in common with the heroes of the Christians.      

            The differences between the worship of pagan gods and the veneration of Christian hero, however, do not mean that there were not continuities. As the Christian religion became legalised and increasingly infused with Roman impulses – one of which was the transposition of the patron-client system onto the Christian cosmological system – there were several aspects of the various polytheistic religions that came to shape Christian religious practice. For instance, the practice of incubation ritual, where someone sleeps at a shrine in order to acquire a religious experience, was very common among various polytheistic religions. This practice was adopted by Christians, and from miracle collections from the Middle Ages we often read about cures and visions that happened to those who slept or kept a vigil by the saint’s shrine.

            Another form of continuity can be seen in the deliberate re-use of pagan cult places by Christians. Pagan shrines, temples or sacred trees were destroyed with the purpose of replacing the pagan holy place with a Christian one. Among the earliest surviving records of this idea is the Life of Saint Martin by Sulpicius Severus, where Martin cuts down a sacred tree. In Gregory the Great’s Dialogues – a collection of saint stories written during his papacy (590-604) – we read that Saint Benedict of Nursia destroyed a shrine of Apollo and replaced it with an altar of Saint Martin, which suggests a deliberate imitation of the holy bishop. This incident is also a reminder that saints could imitate other saints, not only Christ or biblical figures. In addition, however, it is important to be cautious about whether this hagiographical topos was indeed enacted in real life, or whether it was only a literary claim. It is likely that the hagiographical topos did indeed inspire real-world events, but it is also possible that in some cases we are dealing with a claim of imitation only, not an actual event.  

 

 

+++    

 

Key terms      

 

Apostolos: Greek for envoy or messenger; term used for those of Christ’s early followers who were missionaries, but also used about those saints credited with introducing Christianity to a new place or a new people

 

Beneficium: the favours given by a saint to the living

 

Confessor: those who testified to their faith by their Christian living, but who did not die a violent death (cf. martyr)

 

Dies natalis: the Heavenly birthday of the saint, meaning their day of death

 

Hagiography: writing about the holy; in the Christian sense, any text that provides an account of the saint’s life, characteristics, death, and/or associated miracles. What makes a text hagiographic is that it has its focus on the saint, and many different types of texts therefore qualify as hagiographic, not solely biographies of saints

 

Hagios: Greek for ‘holy’, Paul’s word for the early followers of Christ

 

Imitation of Christ: every saint was expected to imitate Christ to some degree; this imitation could be achieved in many different ways, either by simply sacrificing their life for the faith, or by imitating specific episodes from the Gospels. Saints could also imitate other saints

 

Martyr: Greek for witness; a term used for those who died for the faith and thereby testified to their conviction

 

Meritum: the quality of a saint’s life which makes the saint earn the goodwill of God; the better a saint’s meritum, the more efficient the saint is as an intercessor for the living

 

Miracle: in Christian terms, signs by which God shows His will on Earth, and through which humans are expected to recognise the holiness of a saint  

 

Officium: the veneration given by the living in order to deserve the favours given by the saint

 

Passio: Latin for ‘suffering’, a word commonly used to describe accounts of the saint’s tortures and subsequent death (cf. The Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas)

 

Relics: the remnants of the saints, usually their bodies or bones; some relics were so-called contact relics, meaning relics that had absorbed some of the holiness of the saints by contact with them – either while the saint was living or after the saint’s death. Through this contact, items such as clothes placed on the saint’s relics or the saint’s shrine could become a new tangible relay point through which God’s power worked miracles. The container in which these relics were placed is commonly referred to as a reliquary, but also sometimes a shrine (cf. ‘shrine’)

 

Sanctus: Latin for ‘holy’; the root of the English ‘saint’

 

Shrine: can be used to refer to the holy space in which a saint is placed and venerated, but it could also mean the casket or container in which the saint’s body or the saint’s bones, dust and ashes were placed

 

Translatio: the moving (translation) of a saint’s relics to a place of rest, sometimes to a new place of rest. The occasion could be celebrated by an anniversary feast.  

 

Vita: Latin for ‘life’, a very common term to denote biographical account of a saint  (cf. Life of Saint Martin)

                  

+++    

 

Brief timeline (all years in CE)       

 

c. 30: commonly accepted date of Christ’s death

 

c.35-64: the missionary activity of Paul the apostle

 

54-68: reign of Nero; possibly the first, and if so very limited, Christian persecutions

 

81-96: reign of Domitian; first major persecutions of Christians

 

155: conventional date of Bishop Polycarp of Smyrna       

 

c.160: composition of The Martyrdom of Polycarp

 

203: conventional date for the death of Perpetua and Felicitas in Carthage, whose imprisonment was recorded in an account that partly might be dictated by Perpetua herself          

 

249-51: reign of Decius, which saw a major persecution of Christians  

 

257-58: the Valerian persecutions; Bishop Cyprian of Carthage died in 258  

 

c.300-305: the Diocletian persecutions

 

313: the Edict of Milan, which legalised Christianity

 

366-84: papacy of Damasus I, one of the major campaigns for Christianising the topography and urban space of Rome

 

373: death of Athanasius of Alexandria, author of The Life of Anthony of Egypt         

 

397: death of Martin of Tours       

 

415: death of Prudentius, author of Liber Peristephanon    

 

417: the finding of the body of Stephen Protomartyr

 

424: the arrival of some of the relics of Stephen Protomartyr in Carthage        


425: death of Sulpicius Severus, author of The Life of Martin 

 

430: death of Augustine of Hippo

 

543: death of Benedict of Nursia

 

590-604: the papacy of Gregory the Great

mandag 26. desember 2022

Saint Stephen and Saint Knud Rex - the typology of martyrdom in twelfth-century Odense

 
Today, December 26, is the feast of Stephen Protomartyr, one of the relatively few Christian saints attested in the Bible, and one of an even lower number whose death is recounted in a biblical narrative (Acts) as opposed to various apocryphal narratives which is typically the case for the apostles. The story of Stephen is one of the most widely known saint-stories in Latin Christendom, both because he inhabits the important role of being the first martyr, the first blood-witness for Christ, and because his story was disseminated in the Bible and narratives that conveyed stories from the Bible, such as sermons, figurative art, ballads and saint-biographies, most of which are tinged with horrific anti-Semitic rhetoric and imagery. 

Due to Stephen's powerful symbolic importance as the first martyr, he also became a widely used point of reference in the regions where Christianity was newly introduced or at least still a recently-established social force, and especially in the first stories about saints emerging from these younger members of Latin Christendom. For this blogpost, I will provide one example from Denmark, found in the material pertaining to Saint Knud Rex (d.1086). 

Knud Rex was king of Denmark from 1080 to his death in Odense in 1086 following an insurrection. The death of the king was recounted in several texts produced by the clerics of Odense who were attached to the episcopal see, and with the establishment of a Benedictine community in the late 1090s the textual production also came to include a liturgical office to be celebrated on Knud's feast-day, July 10. In this liturgical office, we find one of the most striking examples of how the hagiographers in Odense sought to connect their dead king with the first martyr of Christianity. The example comes from a responsory, a liturgical chant performed after a prose reading in the liturgical office. The chant survives in a late source, the printed Odense breviary from 1482, but we have good reasons to date the composition of the chant to the early twelfth century. The text runs as follows (text and translation taken from my PhD thesis):   


Cum furit exterius
trans execrabile uulgus
interius precibus
dux uacat eximius
misteriisque sacris
munitur spiritus eius
[V] Ut stephanus sanctus saxorum sustines ictus 

When outside rages,
The standing detestable mob
Inside with prayers
The excellent leader is undisturbed
And by the holy mysteries
His spirit is fortified
[V] You sustained the blow of stones, like holy Stephen 


The scene described is the interior of the Church of Saint Alban, to where the king and his retinue retreated when the mob had surrounded the royal manor. The insurrectionists sought to break into the church space, and the saints' lives note that they hurled stones and spears through the apertures in the church wall. What eventually killed the king was a spear through his side, which served as an imitation of Christ. But since the image of a saint is usually composed of features meant to imitate other saints, not just Christ, the composer of the office spelled out in clear words what earlier texts had already noted, namely that as the first martyr of the Danes, Knud Rex shared an affinity with Stephen. The typological link between Knud and Stephen is presented in the verse of the responsory, which is the line before the repetition of an earlier line in the chant. 

The purpose of spelling out the link between the two protomartyrs was twofold. First of all, the performers of the liturgy communicated to the saint in Heaven that they were aware of this link, and that they venerated Knud for this reason as well. To show knowledge about a saint's qualities is, basically, a matter of politeness: to ensure that the saint will continue to serve as their representative in Heaven, the venerators need to demonstrate their worthiness, and this demonstration comes through a spelling-out of saintly qualities. 

Secondly, by spelling out the typological link the office serves to educate younger members of the community of Benedictines  in Odense about the nature of their patron. Making sure that the community knew and understood its patron served both to contribute to the maintenance of institutional identity, as well as ensuring that the saint was properly venerated.  

The case of Stephen and Knud is typical for such areas where there were no previous martyrs, or where reports about previous martyrs were sufficiently uncertain as to allow for the claim that this particular saint was the first martyr of a recently-christianised people and a recently-christianised region. This function of typological guarantor was one that Saint Stephen frequently inhabited during the Middle Ages.