Medieval Myths

These notes are based on my sermon from November 6, 2005. Audio available here:

It is useful and fitting to reflect on the saints who have gone before us. This reflection leads us especially to the saints of the Middle Ages and to the many myths that surround the medieval church. While the medieval era certainly had its flaws—as every era in the history of the church does—it also possessed many glorious features that have much to teach us. If we are to grow, as Ephesians 4 declares, into “the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God… to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ,” then we must learn both from the errors and the triumphs of the past.

One reason we have so much to learn from the medieval period is precisely because it is so different from our own. The errors of that age tend to be the opposite of our modern errors. Standing between the medieval and modern eras are the Reformers of the sixteenth century—figures such as John Calvin and Martin Luther—to whom we trace our own roots. They faced a church dominated by what might be called a false materializing of the spiritual, a Roman idolatry that overemphasized externals. By contrast, we face something like a Protestant Gnosticism, a false spiritualizing of the material.

If medieval Christians overemphasized the church, we overemphasize the individual. If they focused too heavily on rituals and visible works, we focus excessively on inward feelings and experiences. If they were at times too reverent, we are often too casual. Their blind spots differ so markedly from ours that we can learn much by studying them.

In the nineteenth century, New England transcendentalists such as Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau were sometimes called the “true Protestants” because they stripped Christianity down to the individual soul standing alone before God, rejecting outward and communal forms of religion. While this caricature does not fairly represent the original Reformers—who maintained a high view of the church and the means of grace—it does describe much of American Protestantism, which has often created a churchless, sacramentless, individualized Christianity. If the medieval church needed Protestant correction, modern Protestants may well need medieval correction.

The Middle Ages are frequently dismissed as the “Dark Ages.” Yet such labels are not neutral. Those who coined that phrase often did so because they despised Christianity, and the medieval period was an age in which Christianity stood ascendant. It was the era of Christendom, situated between classical paganism and the Renaissance and Enlightenment, when human reason was enthroned and biblical authority rejected. To some, a Christian age had to be a dark one.

But from a Christian perspective, the period was filled with light, truth, goodness, and beauty. It was a time of cultural maturation, when the church took great strides toward fulfilling the Great Commission of Matthew 28. If the Middle Ages are dark to us, it is often because of our ignorance.

Contrary to popular belief, the era was not devoid of orthodoxy. Figures such as Bernard of Clairvaux proclaimed a gospel of grace. Bernard wrote that no one can be the author of his own merits and that salvation does not come by one’s own righteousness. Martin Luther himself called Bernard “a most excellent preacher of Christ.” Though imperfect, he and many others preserved a core of orthodoxy.

Yes, the Inquisition occurred, and it involved grave abuses. But before focusing solely on its horrors, we should remember that it arose from a desire—however misguided—to preserve doctrinal and moral purity. While the medieval church sometimes exercised discipline overzealously, the modern church often neglects discipline altogether.

Consider some other common myths. Medieval Christians did not uniformly believe the earth was flat; that caricature belongs elsewhere. The era gave birth to universities, preserved classical learning, developed musical notation, and laid the foundations for modern science. It produced magnificent architecture, such as the cathedrals that still stand today. As historian Regine Pernoud once observed, scholars gathered in Paris to debate whether the Middle Ages were civilized—while surrounded by medieval universities and Gothic masterpieces that could be matched in the modern era.

A particularly harmful idea in American religious history has been Restorationism—the belief that the church disappeared after the apostles and was only rediscovered centuries later. Such thinking fuels sectarianism and cults. In truth, the medieval church is part of our story. The Reformers did not intend to create a new church but to reform the existing one. We stand in continuity with the medieval church.

One persistent myth is that the Middle Ages were defined by tyranny. Certainly, there were ruthless kings and corrupt popes. Yet the period also developed constitutional principles and checks on authority. Medieval thinkers such as Thomas Aquinas articulated ideas about law and governance that influenced later Reformers. Pope Gelasius I articulated the “two powers” doctrine, distinguishing church and state. In the investiture controversy, Anselm of Canterbury resisted royal control of church offices, defending ecclesiastical freedom. Documents such as the Magna Carta protected liberties we still value.

Ecclesiastical tyranny, particularly in the late medieval sale of indulgences, revealed the need for reform. Yet even within the medieval church, movements such as Conciliarism sought to limit papal power through church councils, echoing the pattern of Acts 15.

The monasteries also deserve reconsideration. Though marred by ascetic excess and occasional corruption, they preserved learning, cared for the poor, and shaped culture. They served as centers of education, charity, and artistic development. The monastery of Cluny, for instance, promoted the “Truce of God,” seeking to restrain violence among feuding lords. And don’t overlook the fact that monks mastered the art of brewing beer.

Another myth claims the medieval church neglected missions. Yet Europe moved from paganism to widespread Christianity during this period. Missionaries such as Patrick, Augustine of Canterbury, and Boniface evangelized entire peoples. The medieval vision was one of a Christianized world under Christ’s lordship. Theologians like Athanasius of Alexandria celebrated the toppling of idols through gospel proclamation. The medieval period created Europe as we came to know it — it created Western civilzation.

Even explorers such as Christopher Columbus saw themselves, however imperfectly, as participating in the spread of Christ’s kingdom. Columbus was not just as explorer in search of gold; he wanted to spread the gospel to far flung lands because he knew from the prophets the kingdom of Christ would grow to fill the earth.

Finally, there is the myth concerning baptism. Medieval theology did not teach that baptism automatically saved regardless of later sin. Instead, it often undervalued baptism’s ongoing significance, turning to penance to address post-baptismal sin. Here the Reformers strengthened, rather than weakened, the church’s doctrine of baptism. John Calvin taught that believers should return again and again to their baptism, trusting the promise of continual forgiveness in Christ. Martin Luther, when assailed by doubt, would remind himself, “You are baptized.”

In many ways, the medieval church collapsed because people lost sight of where Christ could be found. They searched for grace in pilgrimages, relics, and penance. The Reformers pointed them back to Christ in Word and sacrament. The Reformation was a needed corrective to late medieval corruptions of doctrine and liturgy — but the entire medieval period was not characterized by such abuses.

We should neither romanticize the Middle Ages nor attempt to recreate them. The church needed reform, and God provided it. Yet the period remains part of our heritage. It teaches us that wherever the gospel takes root, it shapes culture, promotes liberty, and fosters beauty. And it reminds us that reformation always comes by returning to Christ—trusting him and seeking him where he promises to give himself to us.

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We need to know our history — specifically, we need to know the story of God’s people over the centuries. One era that needs to be reexamined is the medieval period. There are many myths that surrounding the medieval church that need to be dispelled. We need to set the record straight. While the medieval era certainly had its flaws, as every period in church history does, it also contained many glorious aspects that have much to teach us today. Secularists refer to this period as the “dark ages” and use the term “medieval” in an entirely negative sense. But the medievals were not barbaric — they invented the hospital and university, for starters. The fact that secular historians disdain the period should make us suspicious — and indeed, the main reason the medieval period is despised is precisely because it was so deeply Christian. A secular historian will call a Christian era a “dark age” and call a secularized period of history a “renaissance” or an “enlightenment.” The secular historians have it backwards.

One reason we have so much to learn from the medieval period is that it is so different from our own era. The errors they made tend to be the exact opposite of our modern errors. Between the medieval era and the modern era stands the hinge of the 16th-century Reformers, to whom we trace our own roots as a church. The medieval church overemphasized externals—rituals, good works, and the institutional church—while we modern Protestants often overemphasize internals: feelings, experiences, introspection, and the individual. If they put too much emphasis on the church, we put too much on the individual. If they were too reverent, we tend to be too casual. If they materialized the spiritual, we spiritualize the material in a kind of Protestant Gnosticism.

In the 19th century, New England Transcendentalists like Emerson and Thoreau were sometimes called the “true Protestants” because they rejected all outward and institutionalized forms of religion, reducing everything to the individual soul standing before God. That is not a fair assessment of the original Reformers—John Calvin, Martin Luther, and others—who held a high view of the church, community, and the external means of grace. In many ways Luther and Calvin were more medieval than modern. But it is a pretty fair assessment of much modern American Protestantism, which has often created a churchless, sacramentless, individualized Christianity. If the medieval church needed Protestants to correct it, modern Protestants need the medieval church to correct us in many ways.

The Middle Ages get a lot of bad press. Most of us were taught that this period—from roughly 400 to 1500 A.D.—was the “Dark Ages.” But historical labels are not neutral. Those who called it the Dark Ages did so largely because they hated Christianity. This was the era of Christendom, when Christianity was ascendant. To secular minds, a Christian period had to be an interruption in the progress of civilization—an uncivilized time sandwiched between ancient paganism and its “rebirth” in the Renaissance and Enlightenment, when human reason was enthroned. As Christians, we must view it differently. In reality, the so-called Dark Ages were full of light, truth, goodness, and beauty. It was a time of great cultural progress and maturation, when the church grew toward the full stature of Christ (Ephesians 4) and made strides in discipling the nations (Matthew 28). If they are dark at all, it is only to us because of our ignorance. The strong dislike many modern secularists have for this period suggests the medieval church was doing something right.

We might think the medieval era was rampant with heresy, but there were many orthodox theologians, pastors, and philosophers—heroes of the faith. Bernard of Clairvaux is a good representative. He wrote, “What? Do you really think you could ever be the author of your own merits? Do you believe that you can be saved by your own righteousness? Why? You cannot even say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ without the Holy Spirit.” That sounds remarkably like the gospel we attribute to the Reformers. Martin Luther called Bernard “a most excellent preacher of Christ.” There were problems that needed reform, but a core of orthodoxy was widely preserved. Anselm, Aquinas, Gottschalk, and many others preserved the vitals of the gospel.

Common associations with the Middle Ages include the Inquisition, serfdom, plagues, ignorance, superstition, misogyny, and stagnation. Yet consider the counterpoints:

The Inquisition sought (imperfectly and often horrifically) to purify the church of immorality and heresy—overzealous discipline, perhaps, but far better than the modern church’s frequent neglect of discipline altogether.

Serfdom was not slavery; ancient Roman slavery was abolished by Christians during the medieval period (though reinstated in the Renaissance). Compared to what came before and after, the era offered relative freedom.

Plagues struck, but medieval Christians invented the hospital as an institution to care for the sick and needy.

Far from ignorant barbarians, they laid foundations for science, invented the mechanical clock and printing press, and produced the greatest architecture in history (Gothic cathedrals).

No educated person believed in a flat earth; Christians knew the earth was spherical (debating only its size).

Illiteracy and superstition? This was the era that invented musical notation, the university, and preserved classical learning, subordinating it to the gospel.
Misogyny? Renaissance debates questioned whether women had souls; the medieval era emphasized chivalry—men as gentlemen treating ladies with honor.

Stagnation? People undertook long-term projects like cathedrals, knowing they would not see completion, building a civilization rooted in Trinitarian conceptions of truth, goodness, and beauty.

Crusades? While far from perfect, Christians were seeking to fend off an Islamic invasion and retake once Christian lands that had fallen in Islamic hands.

Renée Pernoud, a fine medieval scholar, recounts a 1960s Paris conference where intellectuals debated “Were the Middle Ages civilized?”—while sitting amid Notre Dame and other Gothic masterpieces founded in the Middle Ages. We have blinded ourselves to this period’s beauty and goodness.

A major problem in American church history is the Restorationist view: the church fell away after the apostles, only to be restored later (perhaps in the Reformation or 19th-century America). This cuts off historic Christianity and makes people susceptible to cults. The medieval church is our church—our history. The Reformers sought to reform the medieval Catholic church, not destroy it or start anew; they were more medieval than modern.
Now consider specific myths about the medieval church.

Myth 1: The medieval era was a time of unbridled tyranny.

There were ruthless kings and wicked popes, but tyranny is not unique to any era. The Middle Ages were actually a time of great freedom. Roots of American liberty trace back further than the Reformers—to medieval thinkers like Thomas Aquinas, who taught constitutional monarchy, rule of law, and checks and balances. Kings were under God’s law, needed lords’ permission to tax or wage war, and were not autonomous. The two-powers doctrine (Pope Gelasius, 494) distinguished church and state, both under God. The church often buffered tyranny, as in the investiture controversy (11th century), where Anselm of Canterbury defended ecclesiastical freedom against royal control. The Magna Carta protected church liberties. Ecclesiastical tyranny peaked late (e.g., selling indulgences to fund St. Peter’s), but earlier popes were modest—Gregory the Great denied being “universal bishop,” calling such claims Antichrist. The Conciliar Movement held popes accountable through councils, rooted in early church practice (Acts 15 onward). The Reformers broke with a corrupt late papacy but continued an older conciliar tradition. Wherever the gospel goes, it brings liberty.

Myth 2: Monasteries were uniformly bad.

Many monks sought easy lives, false holiness through asceticism, or pride as “super Christians.” Abandoning family life corrupted many. The Reformers corrected this with the priesthood of all believers—all work to God’s glory is worship; family life is a gift. Yet monasteries were not merely withdrawn; they were deeply engaged. They were centers of education, preserved ancient Greek and Roman learning (as in “How the Irish Saved Civilization”), cared for the poor and sick (when the state did not), advanced music, art, and agriculture, and fostered community. Monks advised kings and councils. At Cluny, monks mediated the “Truce of God,” limiting warfare among Christian landowners—a step toward peace. And don’t forget about the beer! Monks were among the first master brewers.

Myth 3: No one in the medieval church cared about missions.

Europe went from pagan to Christian during this period—how, without missions? The medieval church discipled nations: Patrick (Ireland), Augustine of Canterbury (England), Boniface (Germanic peoples), and others. Augustine saw barbarian invasions as opportunity, not end. The vision was Christendom—a Christianized world. Athanasius described idols toppled and cultures transformed by the gospel; that vision flowered in the Middle Ages. Missions extended beyond Europe—to India, China, Japan (sometimes temporarily undone by Islam or statism). Even explorers like Columbus were motivated by biblical prophecies of distant nations glorifying God.

Myth 4: Medievals had too high a view of baptism.

The opposite was true. Baptism forgave original and pre-baptismal sin, but post-baptismal sin posed a problem. Some delayed baptism until deathbed; most turned to penance to “patch the leak” of grace. Penance became a life preserver after shipwreck. The Reformers strengthened baptism: it is once-for-all washing for life. Calvin wrote that baptism’s promise of forgiveness is perpetual; subsequent sins do not destroy it. Recall baptism for assurance—Christ’s grace is indestructible. Luther clung to “You are baptized” in doubt. Penance made forgiveness works-based; baptism offers Christ in word and sacrament. Bottom line: The medieval teaching on sacraments in general and baptism in particular, did need correcting, but not in the way that is often thought. The medieval church was dealt with the same legalism/antinomianism dynamic the church has to wrestle with every age. Yes, they got a lot wrong a lot of the time. The Reformers brought needed corrections, but it is an exaggeration to say the church had disappeared or the gospel been completely lost in the medieval era.

The late Middle Ages collapsed when people lost sight of Christ, searching for grace in pilgrimages, relics, and penance—leaving sinners dangling. The Reformers pointed to Christ in word and sacraments. Of course, no matter how glorious the medieval period, we do not seek to turn back the clock. The church needed reform then, and needs it now. The key to reformation is always trusting Christ and seeking him where He promises to give Himself—in His word and sacraments.