European history between the Renaissance and the Enlightenment was characterised by an almost-unbroken succession of wars, wholly or partially sparked off by religious differences. The European Wars of Religion (1522-1648), which culminated in the Thirty Years War, were the aftermath of Martin Luther's Protestant Reformation. This series of conflicts left Germany's population reduced by one third. Indeed, go back to the proto-Reformation Hussite Wars (1419-1434) and forward to the War of the Spanish Succession (1701-1715) and you will find that for the best part of three centuries, religion was the main cause of war in Europe, woven inseparably with economic and dynastic struggle.
To us today, our societies riven by ideological discord, and with nationalism threatening world peace, the idea of fighting and dying for the sake of theology seems absurd. Let us hope that in future, our descendants will look upon our times with similar condescension.
After Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-five Theses to the door of All Saints' Church in Wittenberg on 31 October 1517, the conflagration began. Imagine having to take sides; would you throw in your lot with the faith you grew up in, or with something new that promises to address the glaring faults of the old? Or would you go along with your neighbours - or meekly carry out the bidding of the lord of the manor?
On one side, Roman Catholicism, on the other Lutheran Protestantism. The former, over the centuries since its inception, had accreted a well-defined hierarchy, wealth, and a rigid theology, placing itself firmly between God and Man. The latter was a clear rejection of the pomp and corruption of the established Church, embracing the notion that Man should have a direct relationship with God.
The Catholic Church had much to lose, power, prestige and money. Luther's ideas found popularity, and not only with the downtrodden. Intellectually, there was much to commend them. The Vatican quickly denounced Protestantism as heresy (much as was the case with Jan Hus, who was burnt to death in 1415, sparking the Hussite Wars). As the new religion spread. Europe descended into barbarism.
It is hard to imagine being given the chance to escape death in a bonfire simply by recanting one's views - and not doing so. Yet in the late Middle Ages, the difference between the doctrines of transubstantiation and consubstantiation was literally a matter of life or death.
After the bloodshed subsided, Europe (and indeed Germany itself) ended up split between Catholic and Protestant. Christianity took on two distinct flavours. Catholicism became the 'high church' - smells and bells - ornate decoration, formalised ritual, angelic music, incense, vestments, magical incantations in a language few understood. Protestantism - the 'low church'. Plain, unadorned, austere - the people speaking directly to God, in their vernacular. Two entirely different approaches to spirituality evolved.
In them I see a reflection of the spectrum of human personalities: Catholic - extroverted, gregarious, loquacious, pleasure-seeking, focused on ritual; Protestant - introverted, taciturn, ascetic, focused on message over form.
Both have their attractions and drawbacks. The showy nature of the High Church approach is spiritual entertainment; "church and stage have always been closely connected," said John Betjeman in Metro-land. Imagining the awe that a simple peasant must have been experienced on entering a magnificent late-Gothic cathedral on a Holy Day; the gilded Monstrance held high, the censer swinging, wafting exotic smells into the air; the gaudily dressed parade of bishops and their retinue of hooded monks; gazing around at the high vaulted ceiling reaching up to Heaven, the stained glass, the statues, the paintings, listening enraptured to the chanting, the magic spells uttered in an incomprehensible tongue - an all-out onslaught on the senses.
The low church appealed to the spirit via the mind rather than the senses. Prayer and sermons delivered in the vernacular, reasoned arguments, mental focus on the Word of God, undistracted by sounds, smells or sights or wealth. The notion of a tight-knit community, an egalitarian fellowship - not a social hierarchy.
I must say that in my church-going years, I found neither; the Polish Catholic Church (for such it has become de facto if not de jure) delighted me not - offering neither intellectual rigour nor uplifting experiences through contact with beauty - only sermons that were mostly forms of social control, and above all dreadful, dirge-like music. One exception was the Dominican Abbey in Służew which, though modern in architectural form, ticks the rest of the smells-and-bells boxes and lifted the spirit admirably.
Which religious style appeals to which personality traits? Are you easily distracted? Want to be seen by all as you sit in the front pew, dressed in your finery? Or do you find conspiracies everywhere? Only go every now and then when you feel up to it?
Considering my own preferences,they are not for any mainstream spiritual form, but more esoteric flavours of mysticism. Not being a gregarious person, I feel no need for a sense of communal togetherness with co-religionists; rather I seek inspiration and insight through reading, solitary walks or discussion. And whilst I can appreciate the notion of religious practice for its own sake, disconnected from dogma, it's not enough to make a churchgoer of me.
Tomorrow I shall write more about mysticism in the search for spiritual understanding.
Lent 2022: Day 13
Comfort and Luxury, Consciousness and Ego
Lent 2021: Day 13
Comfort and Luxury - knowing when to stop
Lent 2020: Day 13
Holy buildings and the sense of the mystical
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