Summary of Alcuin’s work in France.—Adoptionism, Alcuin’s seven
books against Felix and three against Elipandus.—Alcuin’s
advice that a treatise of Felix be sent to the Pope and
three others.—Alcuin’s name dragged into the controversy on
Transubstantiation.—Image-worship.—The four _Libri Carolini_
and the Council of Frankfurt.—The bearing of the _Libri
Carolini_ on the doctrine of Transubstantiation.
Having seen something in detail of the earnestness and faithfulness of
Alcuin’s exhortations to the kings and bishops of his native land of
England, and having learned from them to how sad a state things had
fallen, especially in Northumbria once the nursery of saints, we must now
turn to Alcuin’s work on the continent of Europe.
It may be well to state again the leading dates.
Ethelbert, or Albert, master of the School of York and afterwards
archbishop, took Alcuin with him as a tonsured youth on one of his visits
to France and Rome, and on that occasion he appears to have studied for
a short time in French monasteries. The first letter of his that has
come down to us is a letter to the abbat of St. Martin at Tours, where
he was destined to spend the latest years of his life, about a fugitive
monk whom he had rescued; it was written some eight years before he first
settled in France. On his return from this journey he was ordained deacon
by Albert, probably in 768, when he would be about thirty-five years of
age. He was sent again to Italy by Albert, on a mission to Karl, the
king of the Franks, and it would appear that Karl noticed him favourably.
All this time he was working hard as master of the School of York. In
780 the new archbishop of York sent him late in the year to Rome for the
pallium, and on his way back he again met Karl, at Parma, and Karl asked
him to settle in France. He obtained leave of absence from York, and
joined Karl in 782. His definite work was to govern the school at which
the youths at the court of Karl, including Karl’s own sons, were taught;
the king himself often being present as a learner. He then planned for
Karl a number of schools in various parts of the country, all based on
the model of the Palace school, which he had organized on the plan of the
School of York. Then he took in hand the correction of the service-books,
which had become seriously debased by ignorant copyists; his liturgical
work produced such an effect that the service-books of the Middle Ages
owed more to Gallican than to Roman influences. Tradition tells us that
Alcuin himself wrote the Office for Trinity Sunday, at that time not
fixed as now to a particular day. He found that the Holy Scriptures
themselves had become debased by the same process of ignorant copying of
manuscripts, and in his later years he was set by Karl to take seriously
in hand the revision of the Scriptures. From 790 to 792 he had lived in
Northumbria; but the aggression of heresy in Karl’s dominions had called
him away again, and he had never returned. He was about fifty-eight years
old when he finally left England, and he died in 804, at the age of
sixty-nine.
The tendency towards attempting to define and explain the method in
which Almighty power conducts its operations was a marked tendency of
Alcuin’s time. He combated it, on sound principles. The whole matter,
for example, of the union of the two natures in Christ, he reminded his
readers, was supernatural; therefore, it could not be fitly measured by
human analogies. To deny the perfect union of the two perfect natures in
one Person was to impugn the Divine omnipotence; to claim to understand
and to define the method and manner of the union was to impugn the
infiniteness of the mystery.
It was to this tendency to inquire into and seek to fathom divine
mysteries that the controversy about transubstantiation was due. That
controversy came into being a full generation after the death of
Alcuin; and one of the most prominent opponents of any approach to a
materialistic view of the manner of the Real Presence was a pupil of
Alcuin’s, Rabanus Maurus, Archbishop of Mainz.
The heresy which reached such dimensions as to call Alcuin back from
England to France was the heresy known as Adoptionism. It became
prominent in the same manner, from the same tendency to pry into the
divine secrets of operation, as did the theory of transubstantiation. The
point was, how exactly did the human nature of the Son come into union
with the divine nature? The answer given by Felix, Bishop of Urgel in
Catalonia, was this—by adoption. Hence he and his followers were called
Adoptionists.
The term Adoption had been applied to the Incarnation by some early
Fathers, and indeed in the Spanish Liturgy, which Felix naturally used.
It was used probably as equivalent to assumption—He took upon Him—that
is, assumed—our flesh. This use of the word Adoption in their liturgy
led Felix and his followers to take a large step beyond the equivalence
to assumption. They carried it to its full meaning in ordinary affairs,
and declared that the divine nature of the Second Person of the Trinity
adopted the human nature into sonship, as Son. The so-called Athanasian
Creed has in our English form, “by taking the manhood into God.” In the
original Latin the word “assumption” is used, _assumptione humanitatis in
Deum_.[167]
Catalonia was at that time a part of Karl’s dominions, and therefore he
could operate upon Felix. But Elipandus, who supported Felix, was bishop
of Toledo and primate of Spain under the Mohammedan dominion, and thus
was beyond the reach of Karl. He was a man who, in his letters at least,
used very abusive language.
The Adoptionists held that it was a confusion of the two natures in
Christ to say that Christ was proper and real Son of God not only in his
Godhead but in His whole Person. The highest that could befall humanity,
they maintained, was to be adopted into sonship with God; therefore
Christ’s humanity is adopted into sonship. This adoption had three stages
they said; the first at the moment of conception, the second at His
baptism, the final stage at His resurrection. The Adoptionists professed
to deny that they were Nestorians, that is, that they divided Christ into
two Persons; but it was urged against them that if they did not divide
Christ into two persons, their theory did, when it was pressed to its
necessary consequence. That is the history of the origin of many of the
heresies.
Various measures had been taken against the heresy of the Adoptionists,
both by Karl and by the Pope, Adrian. In course of time Karl sent the
treatise of Felix to Alcuin, who was at the time in England, and Alcuin
returned to France, never again to visit his native country. Simeon of
Durham tells us that the English bishops made him their representative
for the refutation of Felix. As such, probably, in part, but also by the
special wish of Karl, he attended the Council of Frankfort in 794, and
though only a deacon, argued against Felix. Felix was condemned. Alcuin’s
argument was at Karl’s request or command developed into a treatise
in seven books; and he wrote also a treatise in three books against
Elipandus.
We have these ten books. They fill 220 very closely printed columns in
Migne’s series. The books against Felix are among the best and most
independent of Alcuin’s dogmatic work.
This by no means ended the matter. In the year 798 Karl sent to Alcuin a
treatise by Felix, which he desired Alcuin to refute. Alcuin’s reply has
been the subject of so much controversy that it will be well to give it
as literally as possible. The point is, the place assigned to the Pope as
a judge of doctrine. I only quote that part of the very long letter.
[Sidenote: Ep. 100. July, 798.]
“I beseech you, if it please your piety, that a copy of the treatise be
sent to the apostolic lord [that is of course the Pope] and another to
Paulinus the patriarch [of Aquileia]; similarly to Richbon [of Trèves]
and Theodulf [of Orleans] bishops, doctors, and ministers; that they may
(_singuli_) severally answer for themselves.[168] Your Flaccus [Alcuin]
labours with you in giving account of the catholic faith. Allow him
sufficient time to consider with his pupils, quietly and carefully,
the opinions of the Fathers, what each has said on such views as this
subverter has set forth in his book. Then, at a time appointed by you,
let the answers of the above several persons (_singulorum_) be brought
to you. And whatever of opinion or of meaning in that book is found to
be contrary to the catholic faith, let it be overthrown by catholic
quotations. And if the writings of all [of the above] sound forth equally
and concordantly in profession or defence of the catholic faith, it will
be clear that one spirit speaks through the voice and heart of all; but
if anything diverse is found in the words or the writings (_dictis vel
scriptis_) of any one of them, let it be judged which is most in accord
with sacred scripture and the catholic fathers, and give the palm to him
who is most firm in the divine evidences.”
It seems to be perfectly clear that Alcuin’s plan was that he and his
students should draw up a chain of passages from the Fathers, such as
that which at an earlier stage he had himself sent to Felix;[169] that
in this way they should spend the time till Karl had got answers by
letter, or by the mouth of a messenger, or even at a personal interview,
from each of the four, Pope, patriarch, and two bishops; and then that
all the answers should be tested by the passages extracted from the
writings of the Fathers. There is not the slightest sign of Pope Hadrian
having a preponderant voice, or a voice on a doctrinal question more
authoritative than that of the learned Bishop of Orleans. But if, as
the Roman controversialist endeavours to maintain, the Pope was not
included in the curious competition, and only the three others were
to be counted, that is worse still for the position of the Pope; for
Alcuin and Karl were to settle the matter without paying any attention
to the Pope, indeed without considering anything that he might say. The
Roman controversialist has to play tricks with the punctuation and with
the Latin to separate off the Pope from the patriarch. There was no
punctuation[170] in the letter, we must suppose; those who wrote in Latin
as good as Alcuin’s could make a sentence clear in its meaning without
commas and semicolons; and if the passage is read without stops the Pope
is included, as he is also with any punctuation other than that of the
Roman controversialist. But, as I have said, if he was included with the
other three he was given a full chance of making his opinion felt on
equal terms with that of each of the others; if he was not included, the
verdict was to be final without him.
[Sidenote: Ep. 11. July, 786.]
Alcuin is drawn by the Romans into the controversy on Transubstantiation,
which, as we have seen, had not commenced in his time. In a letter to
Paulinus, the Patriarch of Aquileia, dated about 787, he requests his
correspondent not to forget him in his prayers. “Store up my name in
some treasure-house of your memory, and bring it out at that fitting
time when you have consecrated the bread and wine into the substance of
the body and blood of Christ.” If that expression had been used after
the long controversy on the subject, it would have been very much more
important than at most it is. But it comes nearly fifty years before
the controversy was raised by Paschasius Radbert of Corbie in his
treatise _De Corpore et Sanguine Domini_ (A.D. 831). Paschasius wrote
that after consecration “there is nothing but the Body and Blood of
the Lord”, a material statement which Ratramn at once controverted. It
was Ratramn’s treatise, denying the carnal presence and maintaining a
spiritual view, that had a dominant influence on Ridley and Cranmer. The
more subtle refinement of the schoolmen of later times, which we know
as transubstantiation, avoids the blunt materialism of Paschasius by
distinguishing between an essential and a non-essential element of an
existence such as that of bread; giving to the essence which cannot be
apprehended by the senses the name of substance, and to the non-essential
the name of accident. The change effected by consecration did not, in
their view, affect the non-essential, the accident, the part that can
be perceived by the senses; it affected only that which can not be so
perceived, the essential, the substance. But all this is very far beyond
any point which had been reached in Alcuin’s time, or was reached for
some long time after him. From him we do not hear anything of substance
and accident, of essential and non-essential. He presumably used the
expression quoted as a simple and strong statement of his belief in a
very real presence, which he and the men of his time unquestionably held,
but did not attempt to define.
We have an interesting opportunity of realizing the true feeling of
leading personages of Alcuin’s time in this matter of the Presence in the
Eucharist, just where we might not have expected to find it, namely, in
the controversy on the use of images, of which we must now see something.
The Holy Eucharist is used as an illustration in this controversy. The
Synod of Constantinople, which decided that the images of the Saviour
must be destroyed, declared that the Eucharist is the only true image of
the Saviour; meaning that the union of the divine grace with the earthly
elements represents that union of Godhead and manhood in His Person which
images failed to convey, inasmuch as images of the Lord could only set
forth His humanity. The objection was raised by the opposition Council
of Nicaea that none of the Fathers had applied the term _imago_ to
that which is His Body and His Blood; but otherwise they did not raise
objection to the force of the comparison. If the modern Roman doctrine
had been held by either side in the controversy, it must have shown
itself in a declaration that a comparison was impossible, on the ground
that the consecrated elements actually are, by a change of substance,
that which an image can never be, namely, the very Body and Blood of
Christ. The controversialists of the time would certainly have brought
out, in one form or another, this vital point, if they had held it or
even had only heard of it.
The controversy about images is so entirely a part of general Church
History, that our mention of it must be only in relation to the part
which Alcuin played in it. In the year 754 a Council at Constantinople
had decreed the abolition of images, and this decree was carried out
with terrible cruelty towards those who defended the images. In the year
787 a Council was held at Nicaea to re-establish the use of images of
the Saviour and the Blessed Virgin, of angels and of saints, whether in
painting or in mosaic or in any other suitable material, as objects of
reverence, not as objects of that worship which is due to God alone. This
decision restored peace between the East, which had previously condemned
images, and the West, which had retained their use. The Pope, Adrian,
sent the decrees to Karl, no doubt expecting that he would accept them.
It was never quite safe to expect that Karl would do what he was expected
to do.
The subject was not a new one among the Franks. They had held a mixed
assembly of clergy and laity under Karl’s father in 767. There were
present representatives of the then Pope, Paul I, and the iconoclast
Emperor Constantine; and it is supposed that the decision, which is not
recorded, was in accordance with the national feeling. That national
feeling was guided by abhorrence of the abominations of the idol-worship
of the pagans by whom they were surrounded. Karl himself strongly shared
this feeling. He sent the decrees, which the Pope had sent to him, to
Alcuin, who, as we have seen, was then in England. Alcuin made remarks
on them in a letter, out of which grew a treatise in four books called
the _Libri Carolini_, the chief author of which was Alcuin, who was no
doubt assisted by other ecclesiastics. Probably Karl himself kept his
hand upon the work up to the time of its publication. The general line
of the treatise is that images are useful for ornament and historical
remembrance, and therefore they must not be destroyed; but worship of
them must not be required. We must bear in mind that the word image
means any kind of representation, the Nicaean Council of 787, as we
have seen, specifying paintings and mosaics. One of the points on which
these Caroline Books condemn the iconoclasts is, that they do not
distinguish between images and idols; but this is a less grave mistake,
the Caroline Books declare, than that committed by the Nicaean Council,
in confusing the use of images with the worship of them. The former error
is attributed to ignorance; the latter—it was a severe remark considering
that the Pope had forwarded the decrees—is attributed to wickedness. It
may be well, in this connexion, to recall the fact that the _imago_, the
image of our Lord, which was carried in procession by Augustine and his
monks at their interview with Ethelbert of Kent, was not an idol, but a
painting on a tablet[171]. We of the Church of England keep this meaning
of _imago_, in the allowance of paintings and mosaics in our churches,
quite separate from the idea of an idol, which we disallow.
Adrian made a long but feeble reply to the Caroline Books. The great
Frankish Council of Frankfort, in 794, which had the double character of
an imperial diet and an ecclesiastical synod, and was presided over by
Karl in person, held in strong terms the views of the Caroline Books;
indeed, it appears to be far from certain that they were published before
the Council was held. Alcuin, though he had not proceeded beyond deacons’
orders, was admitted to the Council on account of his learning. The
Council spoke with contempt of the Greek synod; showed no regard to the
Roman view; refused both adoration and service of all kinds to images. It
was a tremendously independent blow to the Pope as an arbiter of faith
and morals. But Karl was much too important a person in the eyes of the
Pope to be quarrelled with, and Adrian remained on excellent terms with
him. Adrian died in 796, when his successor Leo sent the keys of the
Confessio of St. Peter and the standard of the City of Rome to Karl, and
begged him to send some of his chief men to Rome, to bind the people of
Rome by oath to subjection and fidelity to the Pope.
These Caroline Books are so important in their unexpected bearing on the
current belief on the nature of the real Presence in the Holy Eucharist,
that we must look into their phrases with some little care.
In the second book of the four _Libri Carolini_ Karl deals with the
question of the adoration of images. In the twenty-seventh chapter
he argues against the temerity and absurdity of those who presumed
to compare, as of equal importance, images and the Body and Blood of
the Lord. He quotes these absurd persons as saying that “as the Body
and Blood of the Lord passes across from the fruits of the earth to
a remarkable mystery, so images pass across to the veneration of the
persons whom they represent”. No one of Karl’s arguments against this
parallel or equivalence gives the slightest indication of a belief or
idea on his part that in consecration there is a change of substance.
He says, “The sacrament of the Body and Blood of the Lord is effected
by the hand of the priest and the invocation of the divine name to the
commemoration of His passion and to the grant to us of our salvation by
the same mediator between God and men”; whereas images are completely
made by skilled workmen, &c. For the consecration, the vested priest,
mingling the prayers of the people standing round with his own prayers,
with groaning of spirit makes memorial of the Lord’s Passion, of His
resurrection from the dead, and of His most glorious ascension into
Heaven, and entreats that these may be borne to the sublime altar of God
by the hands of an angel and into the sight of His Majesty; the painter
of images merely looks out a suitable place to execute his works, and
paints them that they may look beautiful. Thus any one who attempts to
compare on equal terms images and the Body and Blood of the Lord strays
very far from the path of truth, of reason, and of discrimination.
The commemoration of His most sacred Passion is not in the works of
artificers, but in consecration of His Body and Blood. That elect vessel
Paul the Apostle says that the Sacrament of the Lord’s Body and Blood is
not to be put on an equality with all sacraments, but is to be set before
almost all sacraments, when he says, He that eats and drinks unworthily
eats and drinks his own damnation. Nothing of that kind is said of
those who will not adore images. Karl sums up the discussion by stating
concisely ten points of vital difference between the Lord’s Supper and
images. For our present purpose we need only take the ten points as they
relate to the former. Our purpose is to consider how far the points
stated can indicate a belief in the doctrine of transubstantiation, and
how far they square better with that reticent doctrine of a Real Presence
which is consistent with the formularies and the services of our own most
truly Catholic Church of England. These are the ten points: The Sacrament
of the Lord’s Body and Blood (1) is effected by the invisible operation
of the Spirit of God; (2) is consecrated by the priest by the invocation
of the divine name; (3) is carried by angel hands to the sublime altar of
God: (4) by it sins are remitted; (5) it has no growth or diminution of
power; (6) it is confirmed by new antiquity and ancient newness; (7) it
is the life and the refreshment of souls; (8) it leads by eating thereof
to the entrance of the heavenly kingdom; (9) it cannot be abolished from
the Church by persecution: (10) without reception of it no one is saved.