Heavenfield

I’m going to take a small diversion from regular medieval programming to make a few comments on all the fuss over the recent PEW report on religion in America. I must confess that I am surprised at all the surprise. One of my other hobbies is genealogy, and as any genealogist can tell you, Americans have always changed denominations frequently. Ministers may expect their flock to remain true for generation after generation, but it rarely actually happened.

If you don’t believe me, ask the genealogist in your family about the family history. Don’t just go by one name, like your surname, either thinking ‘well, the Smith’s have always been…’. There’s a good chance that you are wrong about the Smiths. Most people don’t know their family history beyond the ancestors they can remember (and they remember them as old folks). Also, remember you have 8 great grandparents — who all had different birth surnames. The Smith’s may well have been predominantly ____ but what about your other 7 great grandparents? You just might get the shock of your life. I’ll give you a few examples…

I have been able to trace my straight matriline back nine generations (including me) to Mary Booth Whiteside who was married in the about 1770 in the Colony of North Carolina. She was Baptist. Her daughter became Methodist during the Great Awakening in southern Illinois as an adult. When John and Elizabeth Moore rebuilt their home after the 1812 New Madrid earthquake (ironically, replacing their earthquake resilient log cabin with brick home) they built space for a Methodist chapel into their home which became a hub for the Methodist circuit riders on the then Illinois frontier. Then follow three generations of Methodists until my grandmother, who was born Methodist, raised Lutheran by a step-mother and converted to Roman Catholicism as an adult. In some ways my coming to the Episcopal church is returning home for my matriline (since Mary Booth’s line probably goes back to the Church of England) but its been a long and winding road that starts with a schism to the Baptists.

Now don’t be thinking that they all joined the faiths of their husbands either because they didn’t. My grandmother’s conversion to Catholicism was fueled by wartime anxiety. She and my grandfather had been married by a justice of the peace for over 5 years and had two kids when he got drafted for WWII. They decided maybe it was time to get married in church and so she converted so they could get married in the Catholic church. If he had never got drafted there is probably a good chance she would have never converted. Her Irish Catholic mother-in-law’s husband didn’t convert until this deathbed. My grandmother’s father and maternal grandfather neither one were ever known to go to church. My grandmother’s paternal grandmother joined a church in her old age and it was the the Presbyterians. Her husband’s obit says that he didn’t have a church but the Presbyterians did his funeral for her sake. I should add that there have been many religious men in my family, including ministers and cousins who became Catholic priests. John Moore (from above) had a brother who became a Methodist minster and two daughters who married Methodist ministers! A matriline is a very small sliver of all ancestors.

If I look across all my ancestors there are : Roman Catholics (Irish, Sicilian, and Franco-German lines), Lutherans, Dutch Reformed, Methodists,Church of England/Episcopalians, German Evangelicals, Baptists, and Presbyterians. As they are all my ancestors (and I was born to two Catholic parents), it is fair to say that there was a lot of denomination switching going on in the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries. If I extend my view to my living cousins then you can add non-denominational Evangelicals, Mormons, and a recent marriage in a Unitarian church. Its also been not that uncommon for people to not have a church at all. There were plenty of unchurched in the 19th and early 20th centuries too.

My whole point here is that Americans have always had very fluid denominational allegiances. It is an urban myth or family myth that ‘we have always been _______’. The only families for which that is really true are those who haven’t been in America for very long.

Its odd the circuitous route that research sometimes leads you on, or I’m just not very disciplined at staying on topic. Hmmm… well, that’s possible. Anyway, one of the interesting tangents that my study of Bede’s breviate pslater has taken is that breviate psalters are most commonly found in private devotional books and later Books of Hours. This continuity from Anglo-Saxon devotional books, like the Book of Cerne, to late medieval Books of Hours, primarily for the laity, and eventually to today’s Book of Common Prayer (BCP), the prayer book of the English reformation that is still used today, is intriguing.

The Book of Common Prayer is a somewhat odd in the history of prayer books because it is for both corporate and personal prayer. Indeed, even the daily prayer is written in such a way that it can be used corporately. The Book of Common Prayer has many advantages: it is covers all possible needs for corporate liturgy, catechism and historical documents, most needs for private prayer and perhaps above all is an instrument of unity for the Anglican Communion. As such it has had an immense impact on the English diaspora as this one book owned by the laity made it possible to carry the faith around the globe. Today each national church in the Anglican Communion produces their own revised text or uses a historic Anglican version of the BCP. One of the disadvantages of the BCP is that as an Episcopalian instrument of unity planning and executing revisions is an extremely long and arduous process. The current BCP for the US was produced in 1979 and the previous was in 1928. To my mind the greatest disadvantage of changing so slowly is its effect on the BCPs usefulness for private prayer. Anyway, I have digressed too far away from my topic for today. One of the give-aways of the Book of Hours impact on the BCP is the inclusion of a full psalter.

A while back MJ Toswell wrote an interesting paper on the relationship between late Anglo-Saxon psalters and Books of Hours. One of the things I find really interesting is that these late A-S psalters had collects after each psalm (which turns the psalm into a Christian prayer). So it is more of a devotional book than a transcript of one book of scripture.

“the frequency with which a psalter manuscript in the later Anglo-Saxon period concludes with a set of prayers and a litany, itself a formalized prayer, suggests the notion of a short reading (a psalm, easily identified in these manuscripts and clearly punctuated for reading aloud or silently) followed by a prayer. This is, of course, the process underlying the development of private devotional texts, whether in Latin or in the vernacular. (p. 1

“Although these manuscripts [Books of Hours] varied in size and decoration, they were almost always commissioned by one person for his, or usually her, own use. They included short versions of the Offices for private use, personal prayers and meditations, and selected didactic texts for enlightenment. The texts were often a mixture of Latin and the vernacular. The prayers, meditations and sermons were generally couched in fairly simple terms, and were lavishly illustrated as a further aid to comprehension and for glory.” (p. 20)

Although there are format differences (such as the development of distinct offices), the elements of the Book of Hours are found in the late medieval psalter texts and the Book of Cerne and related texts. I think that is fascinating. Its a shame that the practice of producing Books of Hours has gone out of style.

M. J. Toswell “The Late Anglo-Saxon Psalter: Ancestor of the Book of Hours?” Florilegium 14: 1995-6, p. 1-24

Tony Blair converts to Catholicism, that was yesterday’s news. I wish him the best and he is not the first politician to wait until his career is past its peak to convert or change denominations. I suspect most have been worried about more than pubic opinion.

Retirement to Rome almost became a fad in late 7th to early 8th century England. It was started by King Cædwalla of Wessex who like Constantine waited until near death to be baptized. I suspect the intervention of Bishop Wilfrid here, since he talked Cædwalla into letting him baptize the young princes of Wight before they were executed/murdered for the mere reason that Cædwalla wanted to exterminate their dynasty. As Wilfrid was apparently unable to convert Cædwalla himself, he may have used the legend of Constantine and the lure of a papal baptism to finally get him to convert. I discussed the likelihood that legends of Constantine were known in Hexham here. His brother Mull had been burned alive in a Kentish rebellion the previous year. We know that Cædwalla had plenty of brutality* to complete before he made his first and last confession. It is generally believed that Cædwalla had been mortally wounded in one of his battles, and though young, was indeed going to Rome to die. His successor King Ine also retired to Rome, though he had long been a Christian patron.

Another king who retired to Rome was Coenred (Cenred) son of Wulfhere of Mercia. He succeeded his uncle Æthelred for only four years before retiring to Rome where he became a monk in c.709. He also took an Essex prince named Offa with him, much to the lamenting of Offa’s people. Again, we might suspect that Wilfrid of York was in part behind this. We know that King Æthelred of Mercia was particularly close to Wilfrid and that Æthelred still had quite a bit of sway over his nephew Coenred and his son Coelred. Note that according to the Life of Wilfrid, he made his last trip to Mercia (where he died) because King Coelred son of Æthelred (who was later supposedly possessed by demons) promised to make Wilfrid his spiritual director and to follow Wilfrid’s plans for the whole of his life. It is interesting that 709 is also the year that Coelred became king, after his predecessor and cousin Cenred retired to Rome. Alas, neither King Coelred or Wilfrid’s adopted son King Osred of Northumbria ended very well.

So is it a coincidence that only those kings closest to Wilfrid actually retired in Rome, I think not. We also know from the History of the Abbots that King Alchfrith wanted to accompany Benedict Biscop to Rome but was prevented by his father. This had to be at least a year before 662 since he was at Lerins for two years before going to Rome and Wighard arrived in Rome to be consecrated as archbishop of Canterbury while he was there. We know that Alchfrith had been a major instigator of the Synod of Whitby and close to Wilfrid. Clearly, Oswiu didn’t trust Alchfrith going to Rome. Bede also tells us in his Ecclesiastical History that in 670 King Oswiu wanted Wilfrid to accompany him to Rome for retirement, if he recovered from his last illness — which he didn’t. Wiley King Oswiu may have been thinking that he would give his son a boost by taking troublesome Bishop Wilfrid with him to Rome and finding a way for him not to return or at least having him canonically replaced. Oswiu may have gotten the idea from his son, who may have been acting on Wilfrid’s advice (though Bede doesn’t mention Wilfrid in the H. Abbots). We can only wonder what Benedict Biscop thought about the whole situation since he had already had one falling out with Wilfrid on a previous trip to Rome. Bede doesn’t tell us; only that Biscop went on alone. If Oswiu or his son Alchfrith had retired to Rome, they would have been the first Anglo-Saxon kings to do so.

Although only kings who were in some way associated with Bishop Wilfrid actually retired to Rome, four other notable kings abdicated their thrones to enter a monastery — Sigibert of East Anglia, Sebbi of Essex, Æthelred of Mercia, Coelwulf of Northumbria and Eadberht of Northumbria. Each entered the monastery for their own reasons. Some, Sigibert and Sebbi, for obvious piety. One, Coelwulf, had been forced against his will, only to regain the throne and later leave for Lindisfarne voluntarily. Æthelred and Eadberht both were long reigning kings who may have wanted to retreat from the pressures and also help their chosen sucessors maintain the throne. I’ve always had the feeling that Æthelred’s zest for the throne would have ebbed after the murder of Queen Osthryth. His support of King Oswald’s cult at Bardney, his burial of his queen there, (if I recall correctly) dedication of new monastic lands (in Hwicce?) to her memory or for her soul, and his own eventual retirement to Bardney suggest that he may have really loved her.

Getting back to Tony Blair, he is not the first nor the last English politician to make a major religious move late in his career. As you can see above, early English kings went to Rome for a variety of reasons, some good and some more suspect. All of them kept the political implications of their move in the fore of their mind, no matter how pious their motivations.

~

* Cædwalla’s brutality was not limited to the Isle of Wight. He also ravaged Sussex and Kent, where his brother Mull was burned alive in retaliation. He then invaded Kent again and must have taken his vengeance.

“She [Elizabeth] cried out and said, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb‘. ‘Blessed are you among women’ — not only blessed among women, but specially distinguished among blessed women by a greater blessing. ‘Blessed the fruit of your womb’ — not that he was blessed in a general way of saints, but, as the Apostle [Rom 9:5] says, To them belong the patriarchs, [and] from them, according to the flesh, is the Christ, who above all, God blessed for ages.

Of the origin of this fruit, the psalmist bears witness in a mystical utterance, saying, For indeed the Lord will give his generosity, and our earth will gives its fruit. [Ps 85:12] The Lord indeed gave of his generosity in that he arranged to liberate the human race from the crime of its transgression through his only-begotten Son. He gave of his generosity because with the grace of the Holy Spirit he consecrated for his entry the temple of a virginal womb. And our earth gave its fruit because the same virgin who had her body from the earth bore a son who was coequal to God the Father in his divinity, but by the reality of [his] flesh consubstantial with her. Concerning this, Isaiah [4:2] also, looking toward the time of human redemption, said, On that day the bud of the Lord will be in magnificence and in glory, and the fruit of the earth will be sublime. The bud of the Lord was in magnificence and glory when the undying Son of God, appearing temporally in the flesh as a bright light, poured out upon the world the greatness of his heavenly virtues. The fruit of the earth became sublime when the mortal flesh which God received from our nature, already rendered immortal in virtue of the resurrection, was raised up to heaven.”

Bede, Homily 1.4 (Advent 4), p. 32-33.

Bede the Venerable, Homilies on the Gospels: Book One Advent to Lent. L. Martin & D. Hurst, trans. Cistercian Publications, 1991.

Psalm 85:7-13 from the Book of Common Prayer:

“Show us your mercy, O Lord, and grant us your salvation.

I will listen to what the Lord is saying, for he is speaking peace to his faithful people and to those who turn their hearts to him.

Truly, his salvation is very near to those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land.

Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.

Truth shall spring up from the earth, and righteousness will look down from heaven.

The Lord will indeed grant prosperity, and our land will yield its increase. [12]

Righteousness shall go before him, and peace shall be the pathway of for his feet.”

This past weekend is the feast day of St. Hild of Whitby. According to Bede, she died on 17 November 680 and her feast is celebrated in the Episcopal Church on November 18th and in the Church of England on November 19th.

Hild’s return to Northumbria from East Anglia in 646 was one of the most important events in the development of the early Northumbrian church. She had been in East Anglia staying with her nephew King Ealdwulf waiting for a ship to take her to Gaul (France) where she could join her sister Hereswitha in the convent at Chelles. Like her sister, Hild was almost certainly a widow. She was 32 years old and for a woman of her time, she would have been expected to either marry or enter a convent long before, particularly since her closest male kinsmen were all dead.

Hild and her sister Hereswitha remind me of Mary and Martha of Bethany. When she was widowed, Hereswitha decided to leave England and enter a convent in Gaul (France) where she could be free to lead a contemplative life, free of all the hassles of royal, secular life or even royal religious life. She left behind at least one son who became a long reigning king of East Anglia. Gaul was a common destination for southern English women before the 650s because there were very few convents or double monasteries in England. Had she remained in the land ruled by her brothers in law, she would have had to found her own monastery as most other royal women of her era did if they wished to remain in Britain. Its also possible that her brothers in law would rather she leave the kingdom than require support from them. So at age 32 Hild goes to East Anglia to wait for a whole year for transportation to join her sister at Chelles when Bishop Aidan of Lindisfarne and probably her cousin King Oswine calls her home to Northumbria (Deira?). If she was a widow, then presumably she could have refused and continued to join in her sister in Gaul. If she wasn’t a widow, then her cousin King Oswine, the head of her father’s kindred in 647, could have demanded that she return home, but it seems likely that King Anna of East Anglia could have seen to it that she made it to Chelles, if they wished. So, there is no reason to believe that Hild didn’t return home to a world of work of her own accord. There were no convents in Northumbria; she would have to build everything from scratch.

So why did Bishop Aidan want to to come home so badly that he would make a last ditch effort to catch her before she boarded a ship for Gaul? It was finally time for the Lindisfarne mission to begin to found women’s monasteries (convents) and Aidan was certainly searching for capable women. He needed a Martha. I believe that with the help of King Oswine, Aidan identified Hild as just the woman he needed probably because she had a reputation as been a good manager of a household. Aidan had previously given the veil to Heiu, the first nun in Northumbria, but she doesn’t seem to have been cut out to be an abbess. Aidan gave Hild the veil at the age of 33, and placed her on one hide of land (big enough to support one family) on the north side of the River Wear (possibly near Abbot Utta’s monastery of Gateshead?) where she remained for one year while she was learning to be a nun.

After her year of training, Hild moved on to become Abbess of Hartlepool in her homeland of Deira. Abbess Heiu who had earlier founded Hartlepool retired to Calcaria (Tadcaster?). Bede does not connect Heiu’s retirement to Hild’s arrival at Hartlepool; he simply says that Heiu retired shortly after founding Hartlepool. Running the first convent, really double monastery (both men and women under an abbess), was not an easy job! Bede tells us that when she came to Hartlepool she set to work establishing the Rule of Life in accordance with that she had been taught by Bishop Aidan with great industry. In 651 her cousin King Oswine was executed by his rival King Oswiu and Bishop Aidan died within a fortnight of each other. Despite the bitterness that Oswine’s execution must have held for Abbess Hild, as it did for Oswiu’s Queen Eanflæd another cousin of Oswine, Hild seems to have had at least the respect of Oswiu. While at Hartlepool she was entrusted the infant oblate Ælfflæd daughter of King Oswiu and Hild’s cousin Queen Eanflæd, whom she raised and eventually succeeded her as abbess of Whitby.

Two years later, in 657, Hild went on to found a new monastery at Whitby (Streanæshalch), one of the greatest monasteries of the age. It was here that the famous Synod of Whitby was held in 664 with Abbess Hild as the hostess. Synods are not usually held at convents or double monasteries; that it was held here is a testament to the respect Hild and her monastery as held by the entire Northumbrian church. Here as Lees and Overing famously entitled an article, she was ‘birthing bishops and fathering poets’. Throughout the seventh century, Whitby was the lead training and learning monastery in Northumbria. Among the young men trained at Whitby, five went on to become bishops — Bosa of York (678-86, 691-706), Ætla of Dorchester (670s), Oftfor of the Hwicce (c. 691-?), John of Beverly (bishop of Hexham 687-706 and York 706-721) and Wilfrid II of York (721-732). Another of Hild’s students Tatfrith had been chosen to become bishop of the Hwicce died before he could be consecrated. It was also Hild who recognized that the shy cowherd Cædmon had been blessed by God with the ability to compose songs of praise to God in the English language. Bede considered Cædmon to be the first Christian poet in the English language and he includes a snippet in his History, translated into to Latin. Some of the early scribes who copied Bede’s History translated it into Old English and they are the among the earliest examples of Old English poetry (in at least two dialects, if I recall correctly). One of the most impressive modern crosses (below) raised in Britain is dedicated to Cædmon and Hild and placed near modern Whitby. The four panels are from top down: Christ, David with his lyre, St. Hild (surrounded by the faces of her five students who became bishops) and Cædmon near eye level. We know during this time Hild was also expanding her monastic network to include at least another monastery at Hackness and perhaps another monastery near Carlisle.

Cædmon’s Cross (modern), Whitby

(available here via a creative commons license)

Hild did not escape being pulled into the politics of her day. She had been baptized by the Roman Bishop Paulinus of York in c. 626 with her uncle King Edwin. Yet, she returned to Northumbrian at the summons of Bishop Aidan of Lindisfarne, who followed Iona’s practices and was, as we would say today, not in communion with Rome. We know that she was on Lindisfarne’s side at the Synod of Whitby and consistently was a leader among the Anglo-Celtic party in Northumbria. This made her the rival of Bishop Wilfrid. When Wilfrid was deposed and his see was divided in 678, Hild’s student Bosa became Bishop of York with authority over Whitby. According to Stephan’s Life of Wilfrid, when Bishop Wilfrid appealed the loss of his see and his exile to Rome (the first such appeal from Britain), much to his surprise when he reached Rome in 679 he found representatives from “holy” Abbess Hild and Archbishop Theodore waiting for him. They lost their case to Wilfrid, but King Ecgfrith would not allow Bishop Wilfrid to return to Northumbria. We don’t know if Hild heard the outcome of their case against Wilfrid, she died the following year on November 17th. Despite Wilfrid’s various wins and losses over the next 25 years, Whitby managed to keep a bishop of its own training at least through the lifetime of Hild’s successor and foster child Abbess Ælfflæd who died about 714.

Hild was considered a saint immediately upon her death. Although Bede does not tell us that she was buried in the Church of St. Peter at Whitby we can probably assume this is so. Her legacy at Whitby became a complicated one that I shall save for another post. However, material in Bede’s History, deference given to her memory even by her rivals disciples in the Life of Wilfrid, and the beautiful account of her death in the Old English Martyrology both confirm that information of Hild’s life was preserved in detail outside of Whitby. We might suspect that her five bishops and the countless numbers of students who enjoyed her hospitality and instruction ensured her sainthood. The works of Anglo-Saxon England’s own Martha have stood the test of time and her memory flourishes today as one of the few early female saints of the Church of England. She is the only female English “Celtic” saint recognized today; books on female Celtic saints must always make room for this one Englishwoman. There are probably more church and school dedications to St. Hild within the Anglican Communion than any other non-biblical female saint.

~~~

Updated 20 Nov 2007

Bede, Ecclesiastical History of the English People, Book III Chapter 25 and Book IV Chapters 23, 24. McClure and Collins, eds. Oxford UP, 1994.

Stephan of Ripon, Life of Bishop Wilfrid, D. Farmer, Ed. The Age of Bede, Penguin.

Lees, Clare and Gillian Overing. “Birthing Bishops and Fathering Poets: Bede, Hild, and the Relations of Cultural Production.” Exemplaria 6 (1994) 35-65.

Recently Bishop Duncan of Pittsburgh made the following statement:

“My prayer for us who have gathered here is that…we will be such a threat to the present order that we will be found worth killing, if only Columba’s white martyrdom, but, if it be so, let it be the red martyrdom,” Duncan said, contrasting the “martyrdom” of asceticism with that of death. Episcopal Life, 28 Sept 2007

So what he is referring to is a Irish homily that provides for three types of martyrdom, not that any necessarily fit the current situation.

From the Cambrai homily, 7-8th century (contemporary with Bede):

“There is not…the holy Apostle has said from his great love; everyone’s sickness was his own, everyone’s offense was his own, everyone’s weakness was his own. In these wise words of the wise man we see that fellow-suffering is a kind of Cross. Now there are three kinds of martyrdom that are counted as a cross to us, namely, white, blue and red martyrdom.

[It is white martyrdom for a man when he separates from everything that he loves for God, although he does not endure fasting and labor thereby. (1)]

The blue martyrdom is when through fasting and hard work they control their desires or struggle in penance and repentance.

The red martyrdom is when they endure a cross or destruction for Christ’s sake, as happened to the Apostles when they were persecuted the wicked and taught the law of God.

These three kinds of martyrdom take place in those people who repent well [blue], who control their desires [white], and who shed their blood [red] in fasting and labor for Christ’s sake.” (Celtic Spirituality, ed. by O. Davis, T. O’Loughlin, Paulist Press, 1999, p. 370)

A few comments on these forms of martyrdom. First they are not a major theme in Irish literature. They occur in only two sermons and are not mentioned in hagiography. In other words, no hagiographer (ie. religious biographer) claimed that his favorite saint was a white or blue martyr. Specifically, Adomnan never calls Columba a white martyr or any other type of martyr.

Stress on the three types of martyrdom and identification of Columba as one is a completely modern phenomenon, as far as I know. If there is an early example of white martyrdom in the early literature, the best I can think of is Bede’s description of Egbert of Iona, who takes on a rigorous ascetic regime and voluntary exile from home in thanksgiving for surviving the plague of 664. Note that this was undertaken as a personal thanksgiving, he was not excommunicated or forced from his homeland and Bede doesn’t call him a white martyr. We really have no idea why Columba left Ireland. Adomnan briefly mentions a temporary excommunication that I have previously discussed (here and here), but Adomnan does not link this to Columba’s relocation to Scotland. Adomnan does claim that Columba did return to Ireland several times after his establishment of Iona and he was in communion with other Irish churches.

I should also point out that the Celts, both Welsh and Irish, had a fondness for groupings in threes. Their triads as memory aids are well known. (We can even see some triads embedded in Bede’s History.) So, it doesn’t seem unusual at all that they would develop the concept of three types of martyrdom, another type of triad.

After reading these descriptions I will leave it to you to decide if you think the bishops meeting in Pittsburgh last week meet these criteria.

~

Translation notes:

(1) Section in brackets is an amended translation by Proinseas Ni Chathain (Celtica 1990, 21:417) that makes sense. If white martyrdom’s included fasting and labor, then it wouldn’t be sufficiently different than a blue martyrdom.

You may have heard of green martyrdoms… the Irish word glas is best translate as blue, as both Davis (1999) and NiChathain (1990) translate it. I suspect the urge to call this type of martyrdom ‘green’ is related to the reputed eco-friendliness of the Celtic saints. Yet, when I visited Lindisfarne a few years ago, it was the blue of the sea and sky that nearly overwhelmed me.

It has been 1334 years today since the Synod of Hertford convened the first post-Whitby synod of the entire Church of England. Over a thousand years and yet the rulings of the synod sound so familiar to our problems in the Anglican Communion today.

Archbishop Theodore, the first Archbishop of Canterbury with authority over the entire Church of England, called the first synod on 24 September 673 at Hertford in Essex. He may have chosen his place well. The last bishop of London (Essex) on record is the problematic Gaulish bishop Wine who bought the see of London from King Wulfhere in the late 660s. Bede says that he remained in London for the rest of his life (Bede HE III.7). He is not listed among the bishops at Hertford and was replaced by Erconwald in 675, so either Theodore did not allow him to come to the synod or the see was vacant.

Bishops present, in addition to Archbishop Theodore:

• Bisi, Bishop of East Anglia (Dunwich?)
• Putta, Bishop of Rochester
• Leuthere, Bishop of Wessex (Dorchester?)
• Winfrith, Bishop of Mercia (Litchfield)

Bishops absent:

• Wilfrid, Bishop of York (represented by proxy)

The synod passed ten canon laws: (Bede’s History, Book IV, Chapter 5, McClure and Collins ed. 1994: p. 180-182)

1. Roman date of Easter will be used.
2. “no bishop shall intrude into the diocese of another bishop, but that he should be content with the government of the people committed to his charge”
3. Bishops shall not interfere with monasteries or take their property.
4. Monks shall not wonder about without letters of dismissal from their abbots.
5. Clergy shall not leave their dioceses without letters of dismissal of their bishops. No bishop shall receive a clergyman without a letter of commendation from his previous bishop. Penalty for both clergy and receiving bishop is excommunication.
6. Traveling clergy and bishops will be happy with the hospitality offered.
7. Two synods should be held each year (reduced to once a year for practical reasons and even that didn’t occur).
8. “no bishop claim precedence over another bishop out of ambition; but shall take rank according to the time and order of their consecration.”
9. More bishops shall be created as the number of Christians increases (conversion of pagan Anglo-Saxons is still occurring).
10. Rules regulating marriage among the laity and forbidding remarriage to anyone who “puts away a lawful wife”.

Looking back at the ten canons, we have rules for the behavior of clergy, particularly bishops, and an attempt to regulate sex among the laity…how familiar does that seem? To see how bad the latter can get, I refer you to the Medieval Safe Sex Flow Chart (according to only the best penitentials) at Got Medieval.

Bishops behaving badly will continue to be a problem for Theodore. He will find it necessary in the coming years to depose two of these bishops, Wilfrid and Winfrith. Both appealed to Rome with varying success. Putta appears to have abandoned his see when the Mercians invaded Rochester and was content to live under Bishop Saexwulf of the Mercians. Theodore appointed another who abandoned Rochester, and finally got a third man named Gefmund to stay as bishop.

Did you ever notice how many deposed/exiled/retired bishops there were floating around Britain and Ireland in the 7th and 8th century?