“By this kind of death people make their way to heaven who perhaps would never reach it by another road.” 13th Century preacher of the crusades.[i]
Modern
man finds it difficult to follow the reasoning that a crusade could
open the gates of heaven. Indeed, the idea is so shocking and repulsive
to modern ears that it has fueled contempt and condemnation for the
crusades generally. Popular culture for more than a century has
characterized the crusades as brutal land-grabs preached by fanatical
priests who advocated “killing Saracens” as the way to heaven.
Such portrayals are inaccurate and based on a fundamental misunderstanding of medieval theology and mentality.
The theological basis for the crusades grew from the concept of “just war” — not, note, holy
war. This notion was first articulated by the Christian theologian St.
Augustine, who lived between 354 and 430 AD. Augustine argued that
Christian leaders (not just anyone) had the right to engage in defensive wars. He did not, however, suggest that the church
should engage in violence for its own purposes. On the contrary, he
opposed wars of conversion or wars for the purpose of murdering pagans.
Augustine argued that only the state -- not the church -- could under certain circumstances legitimately use violence -- i.e. in a just cause, usually defined as wars against aggression and oppression.
Yet such wars, St. Augustine argued, must not be disproportional or
cruel, and they must be motivated by love, e.g. the desire to end
aggression and oppression.
That
the crusades fell in the category of defensive wars — i.e. wars against
aggression and oppression — was self-evident to Christians in the
eleventh to thirteenth centuries. Islam had been spread by the sword
ever since the mid-seventh century. (For details see: Jerusalem Forgotten?)
The call to arms that evolved into the first crusade stressed both the
oppression of Christians living under Muslim rule and also the fact that
Muslim aggression had stolen from Christ his homeland.
It
is now commonplace to talk about Jerusalem belonging to all three
monotheistic religions equally. Jews, Christians and Muslims, modern
leaders intone repeatedly, all
have an equal right to Jerusalem because it is holy to all three
faiths. This view was not shared in the Middle Ages. Jews, naturally,
viewed Jerusalem as their
city because it was the heart of their lost state. Jerusalem was both
the political and religious capital of the Jewish people. For the
Eastern Roman Empire, the claim to Jerusalem and the Levant was likewise
both territorial and religious. The Eastern Roman Empire claimed
Jerusalem based on the fact that Constantinople viewed itself as the
heir to the Roman Empire (to which Palestine had belonged), as well as
because Christ had lived, died and been resurrected in Jerusalem. For
Latin Christians, the significance and draw of Jerusalem was solely
religious — but it was no less powerful because of that.
The
Muslim claim was, in contrast, extremely weak. Mecca was the Holy City
of Islam, followed by Medina. These were the two cities where Mohammed
had lived and preached. Indeed, Mohammed lived his entire life in the Arabian Peninsula; he never
set foot in Jerusalem — except in a dream. Jerusalem had been just one
of a thousand conquered cities in the four hundred years after
Mohammed’s death. Mosques had been erected all across these conquered
territories; the Dome of the Rock was only one of these, even if a
particularly beautiful one. It was not until the Franks had captured
Jerusalem that Muslim leaders started talking about how “important”
Jerusalem was in order to recruit and motivate troops to fight the
Franks.
Note, at the time of the first crusade, the religious importance of Jerusalem to Islam had not yet
been discovered. The Muslim hold on Jerusalem was primarily political:
it was a conquest of a Muslim power, the Fatimid Caliphate of Cairo. For
the Latin Christians, however, that conquest had a religious character. Because of that conquest, “Christ was crucified again in the persecution of his faithful and the defilement of his sanctuaries.”[ii]
This
is an essential point that cannot be over-emphasized: to a feudal
Europe that viewed Christ as the “king of king and lord of lords,” the
destruction of churches or their conversion into mosques constituted an
insult to their Lord.
Just as a vassal was obliged to come to the assistance of his lord if
that lord was attacked, so Christians felt obliged to come to the
assistance of their Lord Jesus Christ. The duty to secular lords was
legal and rational but did not always include an emotional component.
The duty to defend Christ on the other hand was hugely emotional and
spiritual because devout Christians genuinely loved Christ. No one was
more moved by this logic and obligation than the Christian warrior
class: knights and nobles.
So why hadn’t they responded in 648 when Jerusalem fell to the Arabs?
The answer is simple: they had not been strong enough. Indeed, they had not been strong enough at any
time before the First Crusade. It was not the sudden discovery of the
affront to Christ that was different in 1095 than 648, but rather the
gradually evolved capacity of Western Christians to take action.
Even
so the degree to which the plea for aid resonated with people was
surprisingly great. It surprised even those who had called for action,
Emperor Alexius I Comnenus and Pope Urban II. They were astonished by
the response to their plea for aid and embarrassed by the numbers who
followed the call, particularly by the numbers of non-combatants, namely
women, elderly people, the sick and the lame.
The
response was so strong largely because Pope Urban II had combined the
notion of a just war to free Christ and fellow Christians from
oppression with the promise of the remission of sins for those who
undertook the journey. Thus, in addition to being a just war against
aggression and oppression, the crusades (still not yet called by this
name, by the way) offered a route to heaven through the remission of
sins. The journey to Jerusalem was first and foremost a pilgrimage
for each crusader because what defined a crusader (one who took the
cross) was that he took an oath to God — not the pope, a bishop or his
secular lord.
The crusader oath was not
— as Hollywood would have us believe — “to kill Saracens.” It was not
even an oath to take political control of Jerusalem. It was a vow to pray
at the Holy Sepulcher. For the participants of all but the Second
Crusade, this entailed crossing into Muslim held territory. While this
could (and was) done peacefully in the periods before and after the
crusader era, for most fighting men the notion of praying at the Holy
Sepulcher was tied up with the goal of restoring Christian control the
Holy Sepulcher.
This
did not, however, cancel or even obscure the penitential character of
the vow. On the contrary, to a man conscious of his sins (and medieval
knights were usually very guilty and very conscious of sinning), the
need for penance was particularly great. An
armed pilgrimage to Jerusalem offered them a means to receive
forgiveness of past sins, without giving up their status or profession.
Up to this point, most penance entailed putting down the sword, showing
humility and charity, and in extreme cases taking holy orders. Here at
last was a chance to win favor with the God of Love, without actually
taking the tonsure of the clergy. This is not to be confused with
seeking an easy way out. A significant percentage of crusaders died on
crusade. All of them impoverished themselves at the outset. It was the
very hardships and risks of the journey that made it valuable as
penance.
The penitential
character of crusades, however, is all too frequently misunderstood in
modern popular culture. Crusaders did not wash away their sins in
Saracen blood. They did not view killing and violence as the means
to attain admittance to heaven. It was the hardships they suffered and
the sacrifices they made in the service of Christ (i.e. to liberate his
tomb from hostile occupation by individuals who did not honor Him as
their Lord) that could absolve them of other sins already committed.
Returning
to the quote at the start of this essay, the point the preacher was
trying to make was that the struggle for Jerusalem was so difficult and
dangerous that it provided an opportunity — even for those (such as
fighting men) whose sins were so great that they otherwise had little hope of compensating for them — in order to have a chance of entering heaven.
What
this meant, however, was that every crusader, i.e. every man and woman
who ‘took the cross’ and made the crusader vow, was on an individual
quest for purification. They were not acting in accordance with the demands of authority but in accordance with bidding of their own conscience.
Professor Madden put it this way: “A crusade army was, in effect, a
loosely organized mob of soldiers, clergy, servants and followers
heading in roughly the same direction for roughly the same purposes.
Once launched, it could be controlled no more than the wind or the sea.”[iii]
[i] Riley-Smith, Jonathan. The Crusades: A History. Bloomsbury, 2014, p. 20.
[ii] Madden, Thomas. The Concise History of the Crusades. Rowman and Littlefield, 2014, p. 9.
[iii] Ibid, p. 10.
The Holy Land in the Era of the Crusades: Kingdoms at the Crossroads of Civilizations is available for pre-order on amazon.com and amazon.co.uk.
Dr. Helena P. Schrader is also the author of six books set in the Holy Land in the Era of the Crusades:
No comments:
Post a Comment