(One’s level of piety, whether devotional or
practical, depends much on knowledge being either learned or misconceived. In
these analyses we have made mention, occasionally, of books that either help or
hinder the grand object of piety. It seems natural, consequently, to supplement
the analyses, now and again, with correlating book reports.)
GABOURY’S
CRITICAL BOOK REPORT
C. Warren Hollister, Joe W. Leedom, Marc
A. Meyer, David S. Spear, eds. Medieval Europe (New York: Knof, 1982), 246 pp.
Medieval
Europe is a textbook, a Short Sourcebook of
documents from the Middle Ages. Each document is prefaced by its headnote for
the purpose of supplying context. And the Introduction includes pointers on how
to test the believability of a text.
What
is perhaps the chief pointer concerns the purpose for which a document was
written. Since the Roman Church purposed to extinguish every church that dared
to exist beside herself, we should suspect her documents that were written to
discredit other churches. Rome ’s
Account of the Albigensian Heresy is one such suspicious document. From reading
the abstract allegations put forward in there, you get a sense that heresies
among the Albigensians were not easily dug up. Happily, in case the reader has
forgotten to use the pointers learned about early on, warnings of disingenuous
documents appear in the headnotes.
Roman
Catholicism, not surprisingly in a book of this nature, will occupy a lot of
space. Its version of the gospel (salvation by works, which never works) may be
found in summary form often: ‘By living in obedience, in poverty, and in chastity’
or ‘obedience and reverence to Pope’ (p. 140.) Its ridiculous rage against the
‘heretic’ is a prominent feature as well: “Let him be numbered with the wicked
who shall not rise on the day of judgment…let the power of all the saints in
heaven confound him and show upon him in this life their evident vengeance….”
(p. 152.) Rome ’s
rage appears ridiculous, not just because of its exaggerated degree, but
because of the doctrinal faults in the curses themselves. The wicked will rise
on the day of judgment, just like the saints will; and the saints in heaven do
not have power on earth. The practical dregs of Rome may be read about alongside her false
dogmas and powerless anathemas. Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153), a Roman
Catholic abbot, admits that a certain monastery had been, not ‘a sanctuary of
prayer and spiritual pursuits,’ but ‘a synagogue of Satan’ (p. 135.) There is a
lot written between the lines there! His letter, in part, is a reproof
regarding this. In light of Rome’s harlotries and haughty humor, maybe the most
entertaining document of all is The Deposition of Gregory VII by Henry IV, even
though Henry, an eleventh century Roman king, was guilty of hand-picking
bishops. To Pope Gregory, this Holy Roman Emperor weighs in, “This is the way
you have gained advancement in the church: through craft you have obtained
wealth; through wealth you have obtained favor; through favor, the power of the
sword; and through the power of the sword, the papal seat, which is the seat of
peace; and then from the seat of peace you have expelled peace” (p. 155.) To
this the Pope fires back, “I would rather have ended my days in exile than have
obtained thy place by fraud or for worldly ambition” (p. 156.)
The
earlier you go (if you delve back far enough), the less evil is the Roman
Church. So Pope Gregory the Great (590-604) has some excellent insight into how
to be all things to all people from the pulpit: “The gentle hissing that quiets
horses incites puppies…Differently to be admonished are young and old men because
for the most part severity of admonition directs the former to improvement,
while kind remonstrance disposes the latter to better deeds….” (pp. 46, 47.)
Along the same line are words penned by one priest to another (c. 723)
regarding the attempted conversion of Germanic heathen: “At intervals you
should compare their superstitions with our Christian doctrines, touching upon
them from the flank, as it were, so that the pagans, thrown into confusion
rather than angered, may be ashamed of their absurd ideas and may understand
that their infamous ceremonies and fables are well known to us” (p. 65.) Maybe
this gentle approach can work to convince, or at least enlighten, certain
superstitious church-folks.
Islam
is given the space of three documents, which I am thankful for because I was
planning to read the Koran in order to gain some knowledge of that religion
from its own literature. Having read these articles, my plan seems no longer
necessary, nor profitable. The select passages from Sura 2 read like weak imitations
of the Holy Bible, and some of the statements in there are self-defeating. If
it says in Sura 2 (p. 54) to believe what was revealed to Jesus, why follow
Allah and Mohammed since it was revealed to Jesus that he is the only way to
the Father? If all Muslims obeyed select parts of the Koran, however, in not
attacking first and in not compelling anyone to religion (p. 55), the world
would be more peaceful. Women perhaps are respected somewhere in the Koran, I
do not know, but not in the parts of it included here: “Women are your fields:
go, then, into your fields as you please” (p. 55.) The Constitution of Medina
from 622 is similarly dismissive and disrespectful: “A woman shall only be
given protection with the consent of her family” (p. 58.) If the translations
are trustworthy, it seems clear that the current abuse of women by Muslims
might be sanctioned, and even driven, by their own ‘holy word’ and
‘Constitution.’ Since the New Testament supersedes most aspects of the civil
law in force under Moses, there is nothing remotely approaching to, in the
Christian religion, the oppression and injustice that are ratified against the
weaker sex in the Koran. Not that the Old Testament endorses evil against
women. The point is that the passages that are commonly cited from there for
the proof of it are not in force. So there is no case to be made that the
Christian and Muslim faiths agree concerning the treatment of women.
It
should be obvious by now that a book like this is far from obsolete and that
parts of it are singularly practical. Much more proof of this fact may be
given. Is your conscience confused about whether you should give money to
drug-addicted street-beggars who can work but refuse to do so? There is an
answer for that in The Ordinance of Laborers from 1349, to the relief of your
conscience and to improve your financial stewardship (p. 234.) Does Evolution
seem too reasonable to dismiss as true? There is an irrefutable argument from
the 13th century against theories like Evolution from reason alone (p. 203.) Do
you think that systematic theology is a useless endeavor, and not worth your
use? If you are a teachable sort, Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) will sort you out
about that, and you will be ashamed of your prejudice (p. 206.)
It
is unusual for a reviewer to inject a story from his own life into his book
report. But in consideration of the anti-intellectual mood of our moment, it is
not unseasonable to do so. As briefly as I can, then, I will take you on a
strange detour in defense of the relevance of systematic theology and of
ancient books in general. I was scheduled to see a specialist on the day in
question. My tendency is to be punctual so much that I leave myself ample time
for getting ready to go where I am scheduled to be. As I was going through
these motions that morning, my mind was directed, not just to a book of
systematic doctrine, but to a systematic treatment on the person of Jesus
Christ within such a book. I had read the lecture before, and had greatly
enjoyed it, and now it was being suggested to me again very strongly. I took a
look at the clock, and saw that I had just enough time to read that lecture
before getting on my way. Later, while in the examination room with the
physician, I was asked by him about how I occupy my time. When I told him that
I studied theology, he confessed to me that he wished he had the time to do the
same. He then requested that I answer his questions about Jesus while I was
being examined. With that excellent, comprehensive lecture saturating my mind,
I was well equipped to fulfill his request, and told this doctor about Jesus
being both God and Man, having two distinct natures in one Person, etc. For
about one half hour or so, I poured the knowledge out that I had so recently
refreshed myself on, and then went home rejoicing all the way. God could have
directed me to the Bible that morning. Or he could have bestowed the answers I
would need straight from the Holy Spirit. Since God would rather employ the
Christian in some labor, he does not usually flash into the mind the knowledge
that we need. We must read; we must study. And God used a volume of systematic
theology that morning because I needed the compressed knowledge of the
disparate facts that are diffused throughout the Bible concerning the nature of
Jesus Christ. The opinion of Aquinas in favor of systematic truth is approved
by the providence of God in my own life that morning when I was led to reread a
lecture from A. A. Hodge that was delivered by him over one hundred years ago,
and which is now retained for us in that outstanding volume, Evangelical
Theology. I do not doubt that similar blessings would be happening in God’s
Church broadly if Christians would only get off the pabulum of the moment and
into books that contain correct matter and mature knowledge that God can
approve of. Systematic theology should always be in vogue. And a book approving
of the same can never be wholly obsolete.
I hope that was a useful digression. Now to
sum up the book report. Because of the
extracts I have made use of in this report, this volume of ancient literature
might seem more arresting than it really is. Remember, this is a textbook. Like
your typical textbook, this one suffers to some degree, from textbook dryness.
It is worthwhile, but not wonderful; sometimes boring, sometimes interesting;
deep in places, in other places shallow. Besides informing me on subjects as
gloomy as the Black Death and as edifying as Natural Theology, it has led me to
consider further exploration into literature from the bygone ages of medieval
times. Dicuil’s letter on ‘ten questions of the art of grammar’ (c. 800) is
probably long gone, but I might look for it; The Lives of the Caesars by
Suetonius (b. 70 A. D.) is certainly available, and would be dark,
enlightening, and gripping, probably; The History of my Misfortunes by Peter
Abelard (1079-1142) I have already gotten to, and can recommend without shame.
Content:
A- (Informative documents from medieval literature.)
Style: A- (Not as dry as most
textbooks.)
Tone:
A- (A little cool.)
Grading
Table: A: a keeper: reread it; promote it; share it.
B: an average book: let it go.
C: read only if you have to.
No comments:
Post a Comment