The Recording Demon

Here's a story: during a church service, a deacon burst out laughing. Afterward, the priest admonishes the deacon. The deacon explains the outburst: during the service, he saw a demon writing down snatches of conversation between parishioners in the pews. The parchment was quickly filled with these idle comments, and the demon tried to stretch the parchment by biting on the top end and pulling. The parchment tore, and the demon fell over backwards. This made the deacon laugh. The priest used this information in a later sermon, warning the congregation that their idle chatter is recorded by a demon to be used against them when they die and are judged.

The notion of a "recording demon" was popular in the Middle Ages, and went from sermons to physical representations quickly. Here we see two men gossiping (from St. James' Church, Cristow, Devon), and no matter how close and secretive they are trying to be, right above their heads you can see the recording demon taking notes on what they are saying, to be used against them on Judgment Day.

The idea of a recording demon was known in Egyptian monasteries of the 4th century, and was said to visit churches and monasteries and write down the sins that he observed.  This demon was ultimately given a name, Titivillus, and he became responsible to some for causing scribal errors. He was used in sermons about acedia, "spiritual sloth": churchgoers who engaged in idle chatter during the service, and priests who mumbled swiftly through the words of the service in order to get done faster.

Another representation of a demon collecting people's words is the "sack-filling demon" or simply "sack demon." Caesarius of Heisterbach mentions this one: a devil in a high place catching the words of people and putting them in a sack. Jacques de Vitry in his sermons mentions the sack demon with an over-filled sack, difficult to handle with the enormous number of inappropriate things said by folk.

The story of the deacon laughing in church was repeated and embellished over time. One version has the deacon criticized by the priest, who does not believe his story. Later, while asleep, he is exonerated when the Virgin Mary places the scroll of the demon's writings on his chest. The scroll proves to the priest that the deacon was telling the truth.

This is told in a poem by John of Garland, of whom I will say more tomorrow.

The Beguines Begin

Christianity inspired many different approaches to life: some became canons regular (parish priests), some joined monasteries or convents, some became mendicants (wandering monks/preachers), some chose to be hermits, and some decided to simplify their lives in a way that they deemed more "Christ-like."

In the early 1100s, some women in the Low Countries (where the Netherlands, Belgium, and Luxembourg are now) began devoting themselves to a simplified life of prayer and charitable work. They did not take formal vows of poverty or obedience as nuns would—though they embraced chastity—and there was no compulsion to remain in their chosen lifestyle, if for some reason they decided to change.

The trend among women grew, however, until in the following century it was apparent that this was a movement that stood out among towns and villages. Many women would move to be near each other, forming communities for mutual support. Local clergy would point to them as exemplars of Christian behavior. Jacques de Vitry even appealed to the pope to recognize them formally.

These groups never gained formal recognition by the pope, but local churches encouraged the behavior, even help establish the communities, called beguinages after the name Beguine. (The origin of "Beguine" is unknown; a theory that it came from a priest named Lambert le Bègue, "Lambert the Stammerer" seems unlikely.) Some of these communities were huge: The Beguinage of Paris had 400 women, one in Ghent had thousands of members.

Eventually the Beguines fell out of favor, especially after the Council of Vienne; why that happened will be the subject for tomorrow.

Jacques de Vitry

It seems unfair that I mention Jacques de Vitry here and here and here, and don't really tell much more than he was a cardinal. He was actually an important figure in his lifetime, a historian of the Crusades and a theologian.

Born at Vitry-sur-Seine (hence the surname) near Paris about 1160, he studied at the recently founded University of Paris. After an encounter with Marie d'Oignies, a female mystic, he was convinced to become a canon regular (a priest in the church, as opposed to a monk), so he went to Paris to be ordained and then served at the Priory of Saint-Nicolas d'Oignies. He strongly preached for the Albigensian Crusade.

On the other hand, he was fascinated by the Beguines, a lay Christian group that operated outside the structure of the Church, and asked Honorius to recognize them as a legitimate group.

His reputation was such that in 1214 he was chosen bishop of St. John of Acre, in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem. From that experience he wrote the Historia Orientalis, in which he recorded the progress of the Fifth Crusade, as well as a history of the Crusades, for Pope Honorius III. He never finished the work. Besides leaving many sermons, he also wrote about the immoral life of the students at the University of Paris. 

In 1229, Pope Gregory IX made de Vitry a cardinal. A little later he died (1 May 1240) while still in Jerusalem. His body was returned to Oignies. His remains were held in a reliquary. In 2015, a research project determined that the remains in the reliquary likely were, in fact, de Vitry's. Forensic work on the skull and DNA evidence contributed to a digital reconstruction of his head and face.

The Beguines were only mentioned here briefly, and deserve more attention. They will come next.

Christina the Astonishing

Christina was born about 1150 in Belgium, the youngest of three daughters. She was raised by her two older sisters from the age of 15 when their parents died. Her life would have been spent as a shepherdess, except a seizure at the age of 21 was so severe it left her in (we must assume) a cataleptic state. Everyone assumed she was dead.

At her funeral, during the Agnus Dei, she suddenly rose up from her opened coffin with great vigor. It is reported that she rose in the air up to the rafters of the church. The priest told her to come down; she landed on the altar and announced that she had seen heaven and hell and purgatory, and had been returned to earth to pray for those stuck in purgatory.

According to Dominican professor of theology at Louvain Thomas de Cantimpré, who wrote a biography after interviewing witnesses, including Cardinal Jacques de Vitry, her life changed radically from that point. She claimed she could not abide the odor of sin she smelled on people, and would climb trees or levitate to avoid them. She started sleeping on rocks, wearing rags, and seek other forms of deprivation or mortification.

She would stand in the freezing water of the river Meuse, roll in fire without harm, hang out in tombs (according to the report by Vitry). She would claim at times to be leading recently deceased to purgatory, and leading souls from purgatory to heaven. Her neighbors had differing opinions: some called her a holy woman touched by God, some said she was insane. The prioress of the nearby St. Catherine's convent remarked that Christina was always docile and obedient when the prioress asked her to do something, regardless of her bizarre behavior at other times. She lived her remaining days at St. Catherine's.

Although never formally canonized (and therefore sometimes referred to as Blessed Christina instead of St. Christina), she was nevertheless added to the Tridentine calendar with a feast day of 24 July, the day of her death in 1224.

Jacques de Vitry has cropped up a few times over the years in this blog, but has never been discussed directly. I want to rectify that tomorrow.

Glass and Recycling

In 1977-79, a shipwreck off the southern coast of Turkey was investigated. It was determined to have sunk about 1025. The ship's hold contained three tons of broken glass and chunks of glass. (This amount of glass would make about 12,000 Coke bottles.)

Jesse Tree at York Minster (1150-70); some of the oldest
stained glass of the Middle Ages

Glass requires extreme heat applied to a mixture of silica, soda, and lime. Silica was derived from sand; soda happens to reduce the temperature at which glass can form; lime makes the glass "chemically stable." Impurities—by accident or design—added color to the glass.

We know little about how glass-making came about; records do not explain the technique, but anecdotal mentions tell us a little. Pliny's Natural History tells us that the best sand for glass comes from the mouth of the Belus River near Akko, Israel. The shells in that sand provide the lime needed to make the glass stable. William of Tyre (1130-1186) and Jacques de Vitry (1170-1240) around 1200 both mention the same source. It is thought that the ancients did not understand why that source was the best, chemically, that they did not understand that the shells contained necessary lime.

In England, the Glastonbury Abbey Project has discovered evidence of a stone structure on the site of Glastonbury Abbey dating to c.700. They have also found evidence of early Roman and Saxon activity from before the Abbey's founding. Remains of glass-making furnaces have been uncovered, showing archaeologists that Saxons were recycling Roman glass brought from Europe. The Glastonbury site was possibly the first Saxon glass-making factory in England.

The remarkable thing about glass is that it is recyclable, like metals. Although it took a lot of energy to process, every bit of broken material (unlike wood or stone or pottery) could be re-smelted and re-cast. It is possible that the glass in windows like the example above was even older than our estimates, having been re-used from earlier glass objects that broke or had outlived their usefulness.