Étiquette : bible
The Cenacle of Meaux and Christian Humanism in the Renaissance
“Everything that happens daily in this country stems from a government that calls itself ‘Christian.’ For weeks, not only Jews but also thousands of faithful Catholics in Germany—and I think throughout the world—have been waiting and hoping that the Church of Christ [the Roman Catholic Church] will raise its voice to put an end to this abuse of Christ’s name. Is not this idolatry of race and state power, hammered into the masses daily by radio, a blatant heresy? Is not all of this in total contradiction with the attitude of our Lord and Savior, who, even on the cross, prayed for those who persecuted him?” 1
This quote is similar in many ways to what many Christians feel today in the face of the abuse of « religion » to justify rapacious and bloody wars presented as « just wars, » especially by prominent members of the Trump Administration, notably its Secretary of War, Pete Hegseth.
History tragically repeats itself, for this quote is not new. It comes from a letter sent to the Pope in 1933 by Edith Stein, a philosopher of Jewish origin who became a Carmelite nun, when German Catholics, a minority in this Protestant country, signed a Concordat with Hitler. The common enemy to be fought was now Bolshevism. In exchange for their silence in the face of Nazi barbarity, Hitler offered them his gracious protection.
In France, at the same time, big business, Europeanists before their time, were proclaiming: « Better Hitler than the Popular Front! »
Our good fortune today is to have a pope who raises his voice for peace and justice for all. And one can hope that his voice can give everyone the courage to stop the mad march towards war.
On Palm Sunday, Leo XIV forcefully reiterated that no one can justify war in the name of the Lord:
God « does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war. » « On the contrary, he who has turned his back on the living God, making himself and his own power a mute, blind, and deaf idol, is enslaved to death. »
In addition to the thirst for power, there is also the thirst for money, which was denounced during his trip to the Principality of Monaco.
During his first year as Pope, he repeatedly called for a reconciliation that was « disarmed and disarming. » To the « warlords » who make their power « a mute, blind, and deaf idol, » he contrasted listening to a « melody greater than ourselves » —a harmony to which we can dance when the world seems to forget even « the light. »
The arrival of Pope Leo XIV in France
In a statement published on May 6, the president of the Conference of Bishops of France confirmed what many had been hoping for for a year: although it remains to be confirmed, Leo XIV could come to France at the end of September 2026, stopping in Paris and Lourdes.
This is an opportunity for us to evoke one of the most luminous upsurges of our country, which reached its peak in 1521, with the creation of the Cenacle of Meaux by the philosopher-theologian Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples (1450-1537) , at the request of his student Bishop Guillaume Briçonnet (1472-1534) .
It was not a philosophical or prayer circle. Its primary purpose was to read, study, translate, and print the Gospel in French and to train clergymen in preaching. The approach was so simple, honest, and innovative that it deeply disturbed the established political and religious powers. The Cenacle was closed after only four years, its leaders were persecuted, and forced into exile. It was only thanks to the protection of Marguerite of Navarre (1492–1549) (also known as Marguerite of Angoulême or Marguerite of Valois-Angoulême), sister of king Francis I, who embraced this movement, that its leading figures were able to escape the flames of the stake.
Renaissance Evangelicalism
For Guillaume d’Alonge, Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples is
« The intellectual leader and founder of French evangelicalism, a reform movement that developed in the early decades of the 16th century, in parallel with the Protestant Reformation, with which it had important points of contact. » 2
What some call « Renaissance evangelicalism » (not to be confused with American messianic evangelicalism, a current that animates today’s warmongers) corresponds to a movement of ideas characterized by the valorization of biblical exegesis.
Unlike evangelicalism in the most common sense of the term, it does not necessarily relate to the Protestant Reformation. On the contrary, many humanists who did not wish to break with the papacy but nevertheless declared themselves hostile to ecclesiastical abuses, such as Erasmus of Rotterdam and François Rabelais, were driven by a desire for reform without schism.
While Catholics sought to eradicate them by ignoring them, Protestants have always claimed that they were one of their own.
Like Erasmus, Jacques Lefèvre d’Étaples was certainly a reformer, but he never considered breaking with the Roman Catholic Church, as demanded by Luther, Calvin, and other figures of the Protestant Reformation. The Christian humanists of the Renaissance believed, perhaps naively, that by appealing to reason, the Roman Curia would eventually yield to their demands and agree to eradicate the corruption and abuses that severely plagued the institution.
Humanism
It was in Italy, with Petrarch (1304-1374) , that humanism was born. The poet began by collecting inscriptions on the old stones of Rome and continued his quest for the Ancients in manuscripts.
With his friend Boccaccio , he brought Byzantine scholars to Italy to revive the study of Greek and Latin. While the term humanist then referred to someone who, through the study of Greek and Latin , « cultivated the humanities » ( studia humanitatis ), Renaissance humanist thinkers did not renounce their Christian faith but rather sought to reconcile the two.
A very clear break with scholastic pessimism then took place. Conceiving of himself as « created in the living image of the Creator, » the Renaissance man, uomo universale, endowed with reason and free will, no longer blamed the devil. It was he who had to strive to overcome his evil inclinations. And if he fully developed his creative potential, it was above all to please the Creator by placing his life at the service of the public good rather than his personal glory.
In Northern Europe, the movement of the Brethren and Sisters of the Common Life and that of the Beguines stemmed from the conviction that the contemplative life and the active life should complement each other and not oppose each other. Each person should live « in imitation of Christ. » It was in Deventer, among the Brethren of the Common Life , that Erasmus, inspired by teachers like Rudolph Agricola , discovered Christian humanism and the « good literature . «
Greek and the Greeks
While the study of Greek penetrated Italy and the Netherlands from the beginning of the 15th century, in France, young elites jostled to attend, from 1476 onwards, the courses of a Greek exile, Georges Hermonyme of Sparta, a poor pedagogue, rapacious and with little mastery of his own language.
But, as Jacqueline de Romilly points out:
“Hermonymus had only one merit: that of being the first. The fact is that he had as students, (…) or simply through his advice, all those who were to become the glory of nascent humanism: Reuchlin was his student, Lefèvre d’Étaples said he benefited from his advice, Erasmus asked him for lessons, as did Beatus Rhenanus – and above all our patron saint, Guillaume Budé.” 4
Two other Greeks played a major role in the revival of Hellenic studies.
And first of all , Constantin Lascaris (1434-1501). A student of Jean Argyropoulos between 1444 and 1553, he arrived in the West around 1460, after being taken prisoner during the Turkish occupation of Constantinople in 1453.
After a few short stays between the Greek islands, he became tutor to Francesco Sforza’s daughter in Milan, where he began writing his grammar, the Erotemata .
An essential tool for learning Greek, the work was first printed in Milan, then published twice by Aldus Manutius in Venice.
Constantin Lascaris then went to Rome where he met the greatest protector of Greek scholars in the West and of Byzantine humanism within the clergy, Cardinal Jean Bessarion (1403-1472), Latin Patriarch of Constantinople from 1463.
Bessarion was a friend of Cardinal Nicholas of Cusa (1401-1464), with whom he collaborated in particular during the Ecumenical Council of Ferrara/Florence, convened to end the schism between the Eastern and Western Churches.
Jean Lascaris
The other Greek scholar (unrelated to the first) is Jean (Janus) Lascaris (1445-1535) , also a protégé of Cardinal Jean Bessarion who entrusted him with numerous missions, notably bringing back precious manuscripts from Mount Athos in 1492.
Although born in Asia Minor and frequenting the great figures of Italy, Lascaris entered the service of France as Louis XII ‘s ambassador to Venice between 1503 and 1508. There he joined the academy of the printer Alde Manutius (1449-1515) where scholars from the East and West met to discuss and edit the classics.
When Erasmus went to Venice to the printer Alde Manutius to publish his Adages, a masterful work aimed at popularizing all ancient wisdom, Lascaris not only offered to welcome him into his home, but also contributed to the work himself.
Erasmus, writes the Belgian historian Yvonne Charlier, feverishly composed his Adages there.
« with the help of a host of distinguished scholars, including Jean-Baptiste Egnazio, a member of the Aldine Academy, and Jean Lascaris, a Greek refugee, passionate about manuscripts and ambassador of Louis XII to Venice. »
He also worked with Lascaris, the young French student Germain de Brie.
A few years later, when Erasmus and Thomas More published Utopia in 1516, a fictional account of a people (the Utopians) who attempt to create an ideal society based on the principles defined by Plato in his Republic, they argue that they must be of Greek origin, since Lascaris « was their only grammarian ».
It was in Venice that Jean Lascaris and Erasmus together conceived the idea of a College of Languages. Being able to compare the translations of the Gospel into Hebrew and Greek was the essential condition for achieving a proper understanding of its content.
Lascaris ended his life in Rome with Pope Leo X , who in 1514 commissioned him to found the « Greek College of the Quirinal. » Erasmus, against all odds, and especially against the theologians of the Brabant university town of Leuven, opened the Trilingual College there in 1517.
Lascaris also took care of the Royal Library, which was established in Blois in 1501 by Louis XII, then moved to Fontainebleau with Guillaume Budé under Francis I.
Subsequently, at Budé’s insistence, François I created in 1530, under royal patronage, the « Collège des Lecteurs royaux, » allowing the study of Greek and all subjects rejected by the Sorbonne.
Lascaris’s close relationship with Lefèvre d’Étaples may have led to the writing that the work of the great French scholars, Budé, Scaliger, Casaubon, Lambin, Cujas, Estienne, appeared
« To be a continuation of the schools of Byzantium and Alexandria, rather than an emanation of currents coming from Italy. » 5
Hidden from Europeans for centuries, this immense heritage – one could say a vast civilization that was being rediscovered – thus made its way to the kingdom of France thanks to men such as Lascaris, whose disciples like Lefèvre took over.
Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples
Philosopher, mathematician, musicologist and theologian, Jacques Lefèvre was born around 1450 in Étaples, Picardy, and died in 1536 in Nérac (Lot-et-Garonne). He Latinized his name to Jacobus Faber Stupulensis, hence the nickname « Fabritists » given to those who adhere to his doctrine.
He studied in Paris, where he earned a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree in arts. He then entered the clergy and became a priest, though it is unknown whether he actually served in this capacity. Gentle and timid by nature, of delicate constitution, and possessing a selflessness that led him to bequeath his inheritance to his brothers and nephews in order to devote himself more freely to his studies, Jacques Lefèvre primarily studied literature and philosophy.
After completing his studies and teaching literature for a time, he developed a taste for travel. He explored parts of Europe, and it is even said that his desire to broaden his knowledge led him to Asia and Africa. Drawn by the winds of renewal that the Renaissance was sweeping across Europe, Lefèvre traveled to Italy at least twice, spending extended periods in Pavia, Padua, Venice, Rome, and Florence.
With his translation of Plato and Aristotle, Leonardo Bruni (1370-1444) provided Italy, and with it the scholarly world, with a philosophical framework. Italian humanism sided with Plato.
Aristotle was attacked for « his metaphysics which puts the particular before the general, his theology which substitutes an inactive god for Plato’s creator God, his psychology which does not dare to resolutely affirm the immortality of the soul, his morality which locates virtue not in goodness, but in the golden mean between good and evil. » 6
In 1492, Lefèvre met and discussed with Florentine Platonists and Neo-Platonists, grouped around Marsilio Ficino, his student Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Poliziano and Ermolao Barbaro.
Starting with Hermes Trismegistus, Plotinus, Iamblichus, and Cicero, this school of thought emphasized the supposed complementarity between Plato and Aristotle rather than their opposition, hoping to reconcile the doctrines of the two philosophers. Positioning himself above both camps, Giovanni Pico della Mirandola was preparing a major work, which death prevented him from completing: the Concordia Platonis et Aristoteles , which aimed to reduce all philosophies and religions to a single wisdom, naturally under the tutelage of the Vatican. Florentine Neoplatonism then exerted a significant influence on an entire generation of prelates and clergymen.
Later, in 1509, under the warrior Pope Julius II, his Neoplatonists advisors dictated to Raphael the content of the frescoes in the Stanza della Segnatura, where Pico della Mirandola features prominently. In his treatise The Ciceronians, Erasmus denounced these Neoplatonists who, instead of Christianizing Plato, used ancient philosophy to reduce Christianity to pagan barbarity.
Returning to Paris in 1495, Lefèvre became a professor at the Cardinal Lemoine college where he taught, until 1507, according to the fashion of the time, philosophy, geometry, arithmetic, grammar, geography, cosmography and music.
His first works were commentaries on Aristotle, a Greek philosopher who was often quoted but rarely read. Somewhat surprisingly, it was only after his encounter with the Florentine Neoplatonists that he decided to publish Aristotle’s writings, in the versions of the Quattrocento humanists, accompanied by commentaries aimed at restoring the philosopher’s sound understanding . Ambitious, Lefèvre conceived his Aristotelian corpus as a reaction against scholastic teaching, against which he had no words harsh enough in his prefaces.
Using the partial or incomplete translations provided by Boethius and Bessarion, he attempts to rid them of what François Rabelais called « the so filthy glosses. » At the time, he still hoped to reconcile Aristotle’s thought with the message of the Gospel.
But Lefèvre did not forget Plato . In 1499, he published the works of Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite, a 6th-century Neoplatonist thinker who was mistakenly considered one of Christ’s disciples. He then turned his attention to John of Damascus, Nicholas of Cusa, and the Spanish mystic Raymond Lull : authors who nourished the spiritual reflection of French Christians throughout the century. Lefèvre, the mathematician, found himself aligned with the approach of Nicholas of Cusa, for whom, as for Pythagoras, mathematics was simply the science of divine proportions.
Paradoxically, it was after reading Pseudo-Dionysius that he rejected what he had once adored, and his subsequent commentaries reveal a profound distrust of Platonism. In 1506, following his Politics, he published a summary of the Republic and the Laws , entitled Hecatonomies , the margins of which are frequently annotated with « stultitia » (foolishness) or « semistultitia » (half-foolishness). In this treatise, he grouped together the Platonic principles he approved of and those he condemned.
Briçonnet
At one point, Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples got the attention of the powerful Briçonnet family.
It was a true dynasty of diplomats, builders and great servants of the Kingdom.
Guillaume Briçonnet (1445-1514) was a French royal officer and later a clergyman, known as the Cardinal of Saint-Malo. Initially a financier, he served as the general of finances for Languedoc under Louis XI.
After his wife’s death, he entered the clergy. Recommended by Louis XI to his successor, he was appointed Secretary of the Treasury. He served as Minister of State under Charles VIII and was created a cardinal by the Pope in 1495. On May 27, 1498, he crowned Louis XII in Reims.
Guillaume Briçonnet (the elder) had a son of the same name, born in 1470. In 1489, while a student in Paris at the Collège de Navarre (he was only 19 years old at the time), Guillaume Briçonnet (the younger) was appointed Bishop of Lodève in Southern France. He also became Abbot of Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert in 1493, a monastry built by one of the lieutenants of Charlemagne. .
He continued to reside in Paris for a time to complete his education, under the tutelage of flemish theologian Josse Clichtove, through whom he met Lefèvre d’Étaples and his circle. In 1495, succeeding his uncle Robert, Archbishop of Reims, Guillaume Briçonnet became one of the two presidents of the Chamber of Accounts in Paris, a position he held until 1507. Having been made a canon of the Church of Paris in 1503, he had a magnificent residence built for himself in the cloister of Notre-Dame.
Appointed abbot of Saint-Germain-des-Prés in 1507, he summoned Lefebvre to his side to promote a reform of the monks’ morals. For Lefebvre, this was a moment of truth. What becomes strikingly clear is that he never practiced philosophy to distance himself from religion; on the contrary, his quest for truth was merely a step in his journey toward God. Prudent in examining the doctrines of others, he avoided taking sides while pursuing his own reflections. Far more than from Aristotle or Plato, it was from the Gospels that Lefebvre drew his inspiration. For him, the study of Holy Scripture was to be the culmination of his work, its natural endpoint.
“In the distance,” he wrote, “such a brilliant light struck my eyes that human doctrines seemed like darkness compared to divine studies, while the latter appeared to exhale a fragrance whose sweetness is unmatched on Earth.” 8
Lefèvre wanted to draw closer to the light he saw in the distance. It could be said that he was going through a « mystical crisis. » The list of « mystical » authors whose works Lefèvre published is long. From the one he considered the most ancient of all, Dionysius the Areopagite, it extends to the most recent, Nicholas of Cusa, passing through Heraclitus, Hermes Trismegistus, John Damascene, Raymond Lull, Richard of Saint Victor, and Ruysbroeck the Admirable .
In 1509, Lefèvre published a Psalter in five languages. The choice to focus first on the Psalter was primarily pastoral in nature: he wanted to offer monks an effective tool to fully understand the content of their prayers, but also to emphasize the centrality of the direct relationship between the faithful and God.
In 1511, while passing through Paris, Erasmus met Lefèvre. Although they may have criticized each other, they deeply respected one another and shared a common commitment throughout their lives.
Lefèvre continued his offensive by publishing the Epistles of Paul (1512), which we know constituted one of the battlegrounds for the Reformation in general and for Luther in particular (« faith and works » or « faith alone » as the path to salvation).
One important point clearly aligns Lefèvre with Erasmus and distinctly separates him from Luther: his interpretation of free will. For the Picard theologian, despite the state of misery and powerlessness into which original sin has plunged humanity, we retain the capacity, however diminished, to receive the gift of grace, to open ourselves to salvation, to reject evil, and to choose good. From this stems a more optimistic and serene vision of the salvation process, truly open and accessible to all, in contrast to the somber and anguished interpretation of salvation that the Reformers reserved for a select few.
Lefèvre, publisher of Nicholas of Cusa
in the 1514 edition by Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples at Josse Bade in Paris.
Lefèvre shared his « mystical » passion with the Briçonnet family, and later with Marguerite de Navarre.
And when, in 1514, Lefèvre had the complete works of Nicholas of Cusa printed in Paris, until then only published twice in Germany, he addressed his dedicatory epistle to William’s brother, Denys Briçonnet, bishop of Toulon.
According to Noëlle Balley ,
« The most remarkable example of this cooperation between scholars is the edition of the works of Nicholas of Cusa, directed by Lefèvre, for which he had manuscripts searched for and copied by all his correspondents, thus creating a truly international collective edition. » 9
His printer was Josse Bade, a passionate Fleming from Ghent, trained by printers in Lyon. Not always rigorous, he published many humanists, including Sebastian Brant (The Ship of Fools), Erasmus (In Praise of Folly), Guillaume Budé, etc.
His son-in-law was the humanist and scholarly printer Robert Estienne (1503-1559), son of the great printer Henri Estienne (1460-1520) (the elder). Francis I appointed him, before 1539, royal printer for Hebrew and Latin, as well as for Greek from 1544.
Cenacle of Meaux
From 1518 onwards, Lefèvre’s patron, Guillaume Briçonnet, decided to take up residence in his new diocese, Meaux, 41 km from Paris. There he intended to implement a pastoral reform inspired by the theological approach outlined by the Picard humanist. At the heart of this project lay the desire, shared by humanists, to bring the essential message of the Gospel to all people, even the simplest and least educated, and thus facilitate access to the mysteries of faith, with the conviction that the intervention of the Holy Spirit could inspire the minds and hearts of the faithful.
A friend and disciple of Lefèvre, Guillaume Briçonnet resolved to promote his moral ideas in his diocese. And, unusually for that time, he abandoned court life to live there.
At Briçonnet’s request, Lefèvre then founded in 1521 the Cenacle of Meaux, a center for reflection and reform of the Church of Meaux. The aim was to return to the sources of Christianity, to the original teachings of Christ, by spreading the New Testament in French: the Gospel texts were « de-Latinized. »
Oil on canvas, attributed to Jean Clouet.
Appointed in 1520 as vicar to Guillaume Briçonnet, who had become Bishop of Meaux, Lefèvre settled in that city. In 1521, Briçonnet became the spiritual director of the sister of the King of France, Marguerite de Navarre, who was committed to the cause.
That same year, Briçonnet and Lefèvre attracted several theologians and preachers to their circle, including the future Reformed philosopher Guillaume Farel, the tireless Gérard Roussel , the Flemish theologian Josse Clichtove, the Hebraist François Vatable, the eloquent Martial Mazurier, the intrepid Michel d’Arande, the renowned preacher Pierre Caroli , and Jean Lecomte de Lacroix.
Then others joined, expanding their circle: Pierre de Sébiville, Aimé Mégret , the Franciscan friar and friend of Rabelais, Pierre Amy, and Jacques Groslot , bailiff of Orléans. Their simple motto was also that of Marguerite de Navarre:
« To know the Gospel, to follow the Gospel, and to make the Gospel known everywhere. »
Marguerite of Navarre was close to Leonardo da Vinci during the last three years of his life (1516-1519) at the Château du Clos Lucé in Amboise. Marguerite had lived there with her husband, Charles IV of Alençon, in 1509. Subsequently, she stayed there regularly with her mother, Louise of Savoy, and her brother, Francis I, in the immediate vicinity of Leonardo da Vinci.
She was an influential patron of the arts, while Leonardo was the king’s « first painter. » In 1546, Rabelais paid tribute to her by dedicating his Third Book to her.
A recent thesis by Jonathan Reid has shown that Marguerite was already at the heart of a vast network including more than two hundred members of the court, diplomats, prelates, and men of letters. Extending well beyond Paris and Meaux, this network also encompassed Alençon, Lyon, Grenoble, Bourges, Poitiers, and Mâcon.
Printers, including Augereau and Du Bois, but also Simon de Colines, who was operating clandestinely in Lyon, were among them. In total, according to Reid, 450 editions of 200 « evangelical » works were printed in France thanks to Marguerite’s protection. 10
On the ground
After visiting his entire diocese, Briçonnet observed that most priests did not reside in their parishes and that the assistant priests had little to no theological training. Furthermore, they lacked the time to teach their parishioners because they had to work, as all parish income went to the priests. The only educated preachers were the Franciscan friars (aka Cordeliers), who often limited themselves to promising hell to wicked Christians.
As early as 1518, Briçonnet undertook to combat moral depravity and the laxity of ecclesiastical discipline by thoroughly reforming his diocese. He simplified worship, abolished the veneration of images and relics, and encouraged preaching to revive the faith. He considered his diocese a mission field and divided it into 26 stations of nine parishes each. But, year after year, he observed the inadequacy of these measures: more than half of the priests were incapable of properly carrying out their assigned duties. He decided to expel the 53 most unfit priests and to train new ones. The Cordeliers were forbidden from preaching.
In Meaux, the Cenacle ran a printing press to publish, among others, the works of Lefèvre d’Étaples: Commentary on the four gospels (in Latin) in 1522, Old Testament (in French), Homilies, Epistles, Gospels, Acts of the Apostles (1523) and Psalms (1524).
The main instruments of religious renewal were greater attention to the selection and education of the priestly body, the restoration of the bishop’s authority over competing religious orders, the control of pulpits entrusted to preachers faithful to Christocentric doctrine and firmly convinced of the principle of justification by faith alone, on which Lefèvre had insisted for years in his writings, as well as the printing and distribution of numerous writings and works intended for clerics and laity: these were devotional texts focused mainly on mental prayer and on the invitation to simplify and purify traditional rituals, as well as Latin and especially French versions of the Holy Scriptures.
Stripped of unnecessary glosses, the texts were read aloud to small groups of people with some education. Prayers in simple language were printed for the common people, as well as popular works beginning in 1525.
The sermons, which changed (no more threats of hell, no more collections at the end), were successful. Neighboring Picardy, the Thiérache region, and the monastery of Livry-en-Aulnoy followed the Fabrist approach.
Meaux served as a laboratory for other dioceses in the kingdom, where bishops close to the evangelical network attempted to implement the model of pastoral renewal developed by Lefèvre and his followers. But if evangelicalism did indeed become an influential and respected movement during the reign of Francis I, it was thanks to the support of a segment of the court which, as we have mentioned, referred to Marguerite. The political, economic, and diplomatic support of the king’s sister and her network allowed the Fabrists to have direct access to the court and to influence the crown’s decisions regarding the policy of tolerance toward « heresy » and the appointment of bishops and abbots.
The reaction
The Cenacle of Meaux immediately attracted the wrath of the Cordeliers (whom it deprived of the proceeds of their collections) and the theologians of the Sorbonne.
In April 1521, Luther’s theses, initially well received and studied, were condemned by the University of Paris.
Clichtove defected (he wrote a work on the cult of saints, proclaiming that « the intelligence of laymen will never be able to understand the sublime meaning contained in the divine books » which even the most learned struggle to understand).
Although Lefèvre’s translation of the New Testament is based on the Vulgate text, he makes about sixty corrections based on the Greek originals. The doctors of Paris are particularly irritated by the « Exhortatory Epistle » that he places at the beginning of the second part, where he recommends that all the faithful read Holy Scripture in the vernacular, that is, in French.
Eleven proposals were submitted to the faculty. The courts ordered that Lefèvre d’Étaples’s French New Testament be burned. But the king, informed of this affair, which he saw as nothing more than harassment by the dean of the Sorbonne, Noël Béda, intervened, and Lefèvre, having defended himself before the prelates and doctors whom the court had appointed as judges, emerged from this attack with his honor intact.
In October 1523, under pressure, Briçonnet banned Luther’s books in his diocese, and in 1524, he dismissed Farel, whose sermons were too provocative, in order to continue his work of spreading the Gospel. At his own expense, he organized public readings of the Bible and distributed translations, which reached Normandy, Champagne, and the Loire Valley.
This first phase of expansion of the Fabrist movement ended around 1525, when, under the regency, the conservative party imposed a repressive policy towards Lutherans and Evangelicals, without distinction.
The hour of persecutions
In 1525, geopolitical upheavals changed the situation in France. First, the trap set by the Italian Wars closed on Francis I. On February 24, 1525, the king was taken prisoner at Pavia by the troops of Charles V.
Consequently, he was no longer in a position to protect the Bishop of Meaux. Furthermore, in May, a papal bull authorized a group composed of three theologians from the Sorbonne and a priest to hunt down heresy.
While Lefèvre was publishing the Epistles and Gospels for the 52 Sundays of the coming year , his enemies were more successful with a new attack, taking advantage of the unrest stirred up in the diocese of Meaux by indiscreet preachers and turbulent monks. A trial opened before the Sorbonne at the instigation of the Cordeliers, who accused him of allowing « heresy » to spread.
That same year, the Parliament of Paris brought a case against Briçonnet. As a conciliatory measure, he again authorized the Cordeliers to preach, asked his parish priests to restore the veneration of saints and the Virgin Mary, forbade preaching to the most extreme elements, and took the statues and images of saints under his personal protection. Jean Leclerc, a wool carder converted to the new ideas, was flogged for putting up posters hostile to the Pope.
After barely four years of existence, the Meaux circle was dissolved in 1525.
For several months, in order to avoid arrest and conviction, Lefèvre and his family were forced to leave the kingdom and take refuge in Strasbourg. There, he strengthened his ties with moderate Protestants such as Capiton and Butzer, and associated with Otto Brunfels, to whom he was linked by a Nicodemite attitude, recognizing the legitimacy of religious concealment in a context of persecution.
In 1526, with the return of Francis I, negotiated with Spain by Margaret of Navarre, and thanks to her protection, they were back in France and managed to maintain some influence for a few more years at court and throughout the rest of the kingdom, through intense activity in printing and disseminating written works, as well as through systematic preaching in the heart of the capital. The king granted Lefèvre the position of personal librarian at Blois and entrusted him with the education of his two children.
Guillaume Briçonnet, for his part, was acquitted. In 1528, he participated in the Synod of Paris that condemned Lutheranism. A year later, Francis I and Marguerite failed to save the life of preacher Louis de Berquin (1490-1529), a friend of Erasmus and also a translator of Lutheran treatises. He was burned alive in the Place de Grève in Paris.
Exile
In 1530, Lefèvre chose to leave the court to go to Nérac to be with his patroness, Marguerite de Navarre. He remained there until his death in 1536, preferring not to take sides in the disputes between Protestants and Catholics.
He cannot be accused of Protestantism, although his comments on priestly celibacy, fasting, and the sacraments are extremely harsh and pave the way for the Reformed movement. The term « evangelicalism, » recently proposed, seems, on the other hand, to be appropriate for this attitude of absolute fidelity to the spirit and the letter of Scripture.
Marguerite de Navarre , it must be emphasized, was a learned woman.
While she knew Latin and even Greek, she was far from mastering these ancient languages like Lefèvre, whose lessons she was able to attend.
For religious reasons, she even received Hebrew lessons from Paul Paradis, nicknamed Canosse, who would later become a lecturer at the Collège Royal. She was greatly influenced by the inspiration and ideas of the Cenacle of Meaux, examples of which she provides particularly in her secular comedies and poems.
And according to one historian,
« She was also familiar with Nicholas of Cusa, author of ‘De Docte Ignorance’, also edited by Lefèvre, with Saint Bonaventure, and with Pseudo-Dionysius, actually a 5th-century Syrian monk. » 11
In 1531, the Venetian scholar Jerome Aleander, former papal nuncio who had become Erasmus’s chief persecutor for the Roman Curia, proved to be very well informed about the situation. He regretted that Lefèvre remained under the influence of his former disciple Gerard Roussel, Bishop of Oloron.
The ambition of the Roman and French conservatives at that time was to convince Lefèvre to write a retraction of his errors and to go to Rome to obtain his full reintegration into the Roman Church.
This was not the case. Although Lefèvre could no longer publicly display his spiritual beliefs, he remained close to the positions of his disciples Roussel and Marguerite, who, throughout the reign of Francis I, even after the Affair of the Placards, continued to advocate a third way between Rome and Geneva. In 1534, Briçonnet died at the Château d’Esmans, near Montereau-Fault-Yonne.
Conclusion
Lefèvre’s translation of the Holy Bible , based on the Vulgate text, was printed not in France, but in Antwerp in 1530.
This was the first Bible in the vernacular language, which served as the basis for all French translations, including modern ones.
A center of preaching, this epicenter of Christian humanism, the Cenacle of Meaux , a precursor of « reformism » , had a great influence on the humanists and writers of this generation.
Marguerite protected François Rabelais (1483-1553) and encouraged him to write Gargantua and Pantagruel.
A friend of Rabelais, the famous poet Clément Marot, entered Marguerite’s service. He was soon accused of heresy and took refuge in Nérac in 1535.
Nicknamed the « mother of the Renaissance, » Marguerite de Navarre was the mother of Jeanne d’Albret and therefore the grandmother of Henri IV, the good King Henri who, knowing this intellectual and spiritual lineage, would embody this ideal in action.
It was certainly with the work of the Cenacle of Meaux in mind that he succeeded, at least in part, in putting an end to the Wars of Religion ravaging France.
The inclusive peace he organized in France, based on the coincidence of opposites theorized by Nicholas of Cusa, would be the model for the Peace of Westphalia which ended the Thirty Years’ War in 1648.
Selected Bibliography
- ALONGE, Guillaume Jacques Lefèvre d’Étaples in the religious crisis of the 16th century , nord’ 2022/2 No. 80, pages 15 to 21, Éditions Société de Littérature du Nord.
- BARNAUD, Jean
— Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples: the preparation , Theological and religious studies, 11th year, No. 1, 1936.
— Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples, Master of Philosophy , Theological and Religious Studies, 11th year, No. 2, 1936.
— Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples (continued) , Theological and Religious Studies, 11th year, No. 3, 1936.
— Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples (continued and concluded) , Theological and Religious Studies, 11th year, No. 4-5, 1936. - CHARLIER, Yvonne , Erasmus and friendship, based on his correspondence , Editions Les Belles Lettres, Paris, 1977.
- DE ROMILLY, Jacqueline, Five centuries of Hellenism in France , Bulletin of the Association Guillaume Budé, March 1977.
- EICHEL-LOJKINE, Patricia, Marguerite de Navarre, pearl of the Renaissance , Perrin, Paris, 2021.
- PERNOT, Jean-François, Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples (1450? – 1536), Proceedings of the Etaples colloquium on November 7 and 8, 1992, Classiques Garnier, Paris, 1995.
NOTES:
- https://www.facinghistory.org/resource-library/agreement-catholic-church ↩︎
- file:///C:/Users/User/Desktop/alonge-2022-jacques-lefevre-detaples-dans-la-crise-religieuse-du-xvie-siecle.pdf ↩︎
- Christian humanism differs from « secular humanism » (anti-religious) and supposedly « scientific. » Once the spiritual dimension was eliminated, the humanist dimension also fell by the wayside. Julian Huxley, one of the great promoters of « secular humanism, » ended up inventing the term « transhumanist, » an ideology he saw as capable of replacing all religions. Millionaire Jeffrey Epstein, as well as billionaires Elon Musk, Larry Ellison, and Peter Thiel, are adherents of this ideology .
- file:///C:/Users/User/Desktop/Jacques%20LEtap/Romilly_Helle%CC%81isme-France.pdf ↩︎
- Börje Knös , An Ambassador of Hellenism: Janus Lascaris and the Greco-Byzantine Tradition in French Humanism , Uppsala, Almqvist & Wiksells, 1945 .
- Philip. Monnier , The Quattrocento . Volume II, p. 82. ↩︎
- https://www.etudesheraultaises.fr/publi/evocation-de-guillaume-briconnet-eveque-de-lodeve-de-1489-a-1519/ ↩︎
- Heminjard , Correspondence of the Reformers, vol. I, p. 4, note. ↩︎
- https://theses.chartes.psl.eu/document/ENCPOS_1991_01 ↩︎
- Jonathan Reid , King’s Sister, Queen of Dissent: Marguerite de Navarre (1492-1549) and her Evangelical Network . Leyden, Brill, 2009; 2 vol. ↩︎
- Jean-Pierre Duteil . Marguerite de Navarre . Ellipses, 2021. hal-04186835.
Shakespeare’s lesson in Economics
Cet article en FR
by Karel Vereycken
As early as 1913, the very year that a handful of major Anglo-American banks set up the Federal Reserve to prevent that any form of national bank in the US fixes the rules for money and credit, Henry Farnam 1 , an economist at Yale University, noted that « if one examines the dramas of Shakespeare, one will notice that quite often in his plays the action turns entirely or partly on economic questions. »
The comedy The Merchant of Venice (circa 1596) is undoubtedly the most striking example. While the plot of the story is generally well known, the deeper meaning of this play, which can be read on different levels, is often overlooked. The sequence of events (the story itself) is one, what they reveal (the principles) is another.
The narrative
To help out his protégé Bassanio and enable him to engage with his beloved Portia, a Catholic Venetian merchant and shipowner named Antonio borrows money from a Jewish moneylender, Shylock.
Shylock hates Antonio, the very archetype of the hypocritical Christian, because the latter treats him with contempt. Antonio, on the other hand, hates Shylock because he is Jewish and because he is a usurer: he lends at interest.
Shakespeare makes us understand that the prosperity of Venice is based on the mutual hatred fueled by the oligarchs between Jews and Christians, according to the famous principle of « Divide and rule. » 2
Double-dealing
The Venetian oligarchy never lacked imagination in circumventing the standards it imposed on its adversaries.
Indeed, among both Jews and Christians, financial usury is condemned and even punished. Interest, which is simply defined as the remuneration of a creditor by his debtor for having lent him capital, is a very ancient concept that probably dates back to the Sumerians and is also found in other ancient civilizations such as the Egyptians or the Romans.
Now, let us recall here that Judaism, which is the first of the Abrahamic religions, clearly prohibits lending at interest. We encounter numerous passages that condemn interest in the Torah, such as the book of Exodus 22:25-27, Leviticus 25:36-37 and Deuteronomy 23:20-21.
However, this prohibition only applies to loans within the Jewish community. In Deuteronomy 23:20-21, it is stated that
« When you lend money, food, or anything else to a fellow countryman, you shall not charge him interest. You may charge interest when you lend to a foreigner, but you shall not lend at interest to your fellow countrymen. »
Initially, the same rule applied among Christians. It was not until the First Council of Nicaea (in 325) that lending at interest was prohibited. At the time, many churches were held by lineages of priests , just as nearby castles were controlled by lineages of lords, the two often being related. While its condemnation had been relatively mild in Christianity before then, interest became a serious sin and was heavily punished from the 1200s onwards.
The exploitation of Jews
Italy has been home to Jews since ancient times. They were dependent on popes, princes, or merchant republics. Rome, Sicily, and the Kingdom of Naples had large communities, and popes sometimes hired Jewish doctors. In the 13th century, some cities granted Jewish bankers, with papal license, a monopoly on pawnbroking.
Venice welcomed Jews but forbade them from practicing any profession other than lending for interest. Initially, the Jews publicly enriched themselves in Venice, drawing the ire of the rest of the population.
To « protect » the Jews, the Doge of Venice created the first ghetto (a Venetian word), offering, it must be said, the most unsanitary district of the lagoon to these Jews whom he detested while cherishing the financing they provided for Venetian colonial expeditions and the slave trade that « Catholic » Venice practiced without any qualms.
The Merchant of Venice
This is the essence of the Venetian system that Shakespeare unmasks in his comedy The Merchant of Venice . 3
So, when Antonio goes to ask Shylock for a loan of 3000 ducats for a period of three months, he first tells him:
« Shylock, I normally don’t lend or borrow money with interest, but in order to help my needy friend, I’ll break my custom. » 4
Shylock then replies:
« Sir Antonio, many times you have criticized me about my money and habit of charging interest in the Rialto. I have endured it all with patience and a shrug, because we Jews are known for our ability to endure. You say I believe in the wrong religion, call me a cut-throat dog, and spit on my Jewish clothing, all because I use my own money to make profit. And now it appears that you need my help. Okay, then!
You come to me and you say, « Shylock, I need money. » You tell me this! You who spat on my beard and kicked me as you’d kick a stray dog away from your threshold! You ask for money. What should I say to you? Shouldn’t I say, « Does a dog have money? Is it possible for a dog to lend you three thousand ducats? » Or should I get bend to my knees and with bated breath humbly whisper, « Fair sir, you spat on me last Wednesday; you spurned me then; another time you called me a dog—and for all this courtesy you’ve shown me, I will gladly lend you this much money? » 5
To which Antonio retorts:
« I am likely to call you such names again, spit on you again, and spurn you, too. If you decide to lend this money, don’t do it as if we are your friends. After all, when have friends ever charged each other interest? Lend me the money as your enemy and if I break my part of the agreement you can more happily punish me. » 6
Offended, Shylock replies:
« Why, look at your temper! I would be friends with you and have your affection, forget about how you have shamed me, lend you what you need and take no interest—but you won’t listen to me! I’m giving you a kind offer. » 7
Shylock, to escape from the mutual hatred, offers to lend him (according to the Jewish and Christian rule), as a friend, without interest.
But the « good » Catholic Antonio refuses to become friends with the Jew. He asserts that in business, one should not have friends , and demands that he lend to him as an enemy because it is easier to sanction in case of non-compliance with the contract.
As Churchill said, an empire has no friends, only interests. This principle would later be theorized by Nazi crown jurist Carl Schmidt to become the rule of today’s oligarchy: to exist, one needs an enemy, and if you lack one, hurry up to invent one!
The Venitian’s double game
As we can see, Shakespeare points out the hypocrisy of this Venetian system which bases its prosperity on a « win-win » policy, not between friends, but as a cynical game between concurring mafias.
Let us recall here that, although it was regularly at war with the Turks, Venice also created a ghetto for Turkish merchants and even a « Foundation », that is to say a functional trade representation in the city.
If a Venetian ambassador was reproached for this trade with the Ottomans which threatened the West, he would reply: « As merchants, we cannot live without them. »
The Ottomans sold wheat, spices, raw silk, cotton, and ash (essential for glassmaking) to the Venetians, while Venice supplied them with finished products such as soap, paper, textiles, and… weapons. Although this was explicitly forbidden by the Pope, countries as France, England, the Low Countries, but especially Venice, Genoa, and Florence sold firearms and gunpowder to the Levant and the Turks. 8
Venice supplied the Turks with cannons and military engineers with its left hand, while renting ships at high prices to Christians who wanted to fight them with its right hand. Added to this was the rivalry with Genoa, which had allied itself with the Palaeologus dynasty but which the Ottomans defeated in favor of the Venetians.
In 1452, a year before the fall of Constantinople, the Hungarian engineer and founder Urban (or Orban), a specialist in large bombards, entered the service of the Ottomans. These cannons, he entrusted to the Sultan, were so powerful that they would bring down « the walls of Babylon. » We know what happened next in 1453.
When the Franks wanted to hire ships in Venice to go on crusade, they lacked money.
No problem: Venice finds the right arrangement. To pay for the ships’ rental, the Franks are invited to make a small detour along the route and begin the crusade by liberating Constantinople, which Venice wants to retake from the Ottomans. And it works! Venice increases its trading posts and military bases in Constantinople to expand its financial and commercial empire.
A Pound of Flesh
Faced with Antonio’s foolish and arrogant response, Shylock pushes his logic to the point of absurdity and, jokingly, suggests that if his debtor does not repay his debt on time, he would have the right to take a pound of flesh from him.
This can be seen as a literal and wacky interpretation of what was written on the « bonds » or « receipts of debt » of the time. Antonio, who is convinced that his ships will return to Venice in time to provide him with enough to repay Shylock, accepts the terms of the contract, almost laughing at their surreal nature.
This is where Shakespeare poses a fundamental question and offers us a beautiful lesson in economics, in the form of a tragic and paradoxical metaphor. In most ancient civilizations, failure to repay a debt could lead you to slavery, cost you your life, or send you to prison for the rest of your life. From monetary slavery, we thus moved on to physical slavery. 9
Later, for example, we find in the archives of the Antwerp courts the text of a trial in 1567 concerning an obligation between Coenraerd Schetz and Jan Spierinck:
« I, Jan Spierinck, confess and declare with my own hand that I owe the honorable Lord Coenraerdt Schetz the sum of four hundred Flemish pounds, and this on the basis of the equal sum that I have received from him to my satisfaction. I promise to pay in full the said Lord Coenraerdt Schetz or the bearer of this present, on the fourth day of the next month of August without any delay, by pledging myself and all my property now and in the future. In the year 1565, on the 11th of June. »
You read that right: « by pledging myself. » Taken literally, the debtor pledges his person as surety to his creditor. Let us also recall that in France, imprisonment for private debts was instituted by a royal ordinance of Philip the Fair in March 1303. Apart from two periods of abolition, from 1793 to 1797 and in 1848, the imprisonment of debtors persisted in France until its abolition in 1867.
During the Renaissance, the Christian humanism of Petrarch, Erasmus, Rabelais, and Thomas More combined Socrates’ notion of justice with that of love for others, and a new principle emerged: the life of each individual is sacred and has a value immeasurably greater than any financial debt.
It is a questioning of this principle that turns Shakespeare’s comedy into a drama. Little by little, the spectator learns that Antonio’s ships have all been swept away by storms and other misfortunes. He therefore does not have the necessary means to repay his debt in time.
The Merchant of Venice must therefore accept that Shylock takes a pound of flesh from him as stipulated in the debt title he signed… a financial claim duely validated by a notary and the laws of the Venetian Republic.
To save Antonio’s life, his friends then offer the lender double the initial sum borrowed, but Shylock, driven by a sense of revenge, will not listen, angry moreover at the fact that his daughter has left his house with a young Christian merchant, taking with her a tidy sum of ducats and family jewels.
Shylock viciously responds to the Doge’s request to show mercy, saying that he is asking for nothing more… than the application of the law. He also reminds the Venetians that they are in no position to give moral lessons, because in Venice one can « buy » people:
« What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? You have among you many a purchased slave, Which—like your asses and your dogs and mules— You use in abject and in slavish parts. Because you bought them. Shall I say to you, “Let them be free! Marry them to your heirs! Why sweat they under burdens? Let their beds Be made as soft as yours and let their palates Be seasoned with such viands”? You will answer, “The slaves are ours.” So do I answer you. The pound of flesh which I demand of him Is dearly bought. ‘Tis mine and I will have it. If you deny me, fie upon your law— There is no force in the decrees of Venice. 105 I stand for judgment. Answer, shall I have it? » 10
To this, the impotent Doge offers no counterargument. He himself must obey the laws of the city. The only thing he has the right to do is to allow a doctor of law who has examined the case to deliver his expert opinion.
Turnaround of the situation
Here Shakespeare introduces Portia, who, disguised as a law doctor and acting in the name of a higher principle, love for humanity and good, will succeed in turning the tide. 11
Having acknowledged the validity of Shylock’s claim, she turns the tables with the kind of audacity we lack today. Regarding the claim, she notes an important detail concerning the implementation of the sanction:
« Hold on a second. There’s something else. This agreement doesn’t give you any drop of blood. The literal words are « a pound of flesh. » So take what is yours, take your pound of flesh, but if in cutting it off you shed one drop of Christian blood, your lands and goods will be confiscated by the state of Venice by the city’s laws. » 12
This is another beautiful lesson Shakespeare teaches us. How many excellent laws are worthless simply because their authors didn’t bother to specify their implementation? Do you know the laws that allow you to defend yourself against the injustices the system inflicts on you? Because if the devil is in the details, the good Lord is sometimes not far away. It’s up to you to go and find him.
Shakespeare reminds us that economics is not limited to law and mathematics. Every economic choice remains a societal choice. In reality, only « political economy » should be taught in our universities and theaters.
Presenting the science of economics and finance as an « objective » reality and not as a reality of human choices is the best proof that we are subject to propaganda.
In conclusion, let us emphasize that unlike Christopher Marlowe‘s play, The Jew of Malta (circa 1589), the main actor in Shakespeare’s play is not the evil Jew Shylock (as claimed by anti-Semites who performed distorted versions of the play during the dark periods of our history), but rather the very Catholic merchant of Venice who, as we have seen, uses the Jews for his own interests. Let us recall that in the Jewish ghetto of Venice, the Jews were only allowed to deal with finance but nothing else…
Finally, in The Merchant of Venice , Shakespeare unmasks the workings of a mad and criminal finance which knows how to use formal interpretations of law (the appearance of justice) to satisfy its greed (true injustice).
NOTES:
- Henry Farnam, Shakespeare as an economist, p. 437, Yale Publishing Association, New Haven; ↩︎
- See Sinan Guven, The Conflict Between Interest and Abrahamic Religions , HEConomist, the student newspaper; ↩︎
- All the following quotes from Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice are taken from the website Litcharts; ↩︎
- Act 1, Scene 3; ↩︎
- Act 1, Scene 3; ↩︎
- Act 1, Scene 3; ↩︎
- Act 1, Scene 3; ↩︎
- Salim Aydoz, Artillery Trade of the Ottoman Empire, Muslim Heritage website, Sept. 2006; ↩︎
- A case in point is the history of Haiti. See Invade Haiti, Wall Street urged, New York Times, 2022. ↩︎
- Act 4, Scene 1; ↩︎
- The principle of a « Promethean » woman intervening disguised as a man for the good of humanity will be, with the person of Leonore, at the center of Fidelio, Beethoven’s unique opera; ↩︎
- Act 4, Scene 1; ↩︎
Joachim Patinir and the invention of landscape painting
In November 2008, a symposium was held at the Centre d’études supérieures sur la Renaissance in Tours on the theme of « Contemplation in Flemish painting (14th-16th centuries) ».
Here is a transcript of the contribution by Karel Vereycken on Joachim Patinir, a little-known Belgian painter who is essential to the history of art.
It is generally believed that the « modern » concept of landscape in Flemish painting only emerged with the work of Joachim Patinir (1485-1524), a Dinant-born painter working in Antwerp in the early 16th century.
For Viennese art historian Ludwig von Baldass (1887-1963), writing at the beginning of the 20th century, Patinir‘s work, presented as clearly ahead of its time, would herald landscape as überschauweltlandschaft, translatable as « panoramic landscape of the world », a truly cosmic and totalizing representation of the visible universe.
What characterizes Patinir‘s work, say the proponents of this analysis, is the sheer scale of the landscapes it presents for the viewer to contemplate.
This breadth has a dual character: the space depicted is immense (due to a panoramic viewpoint situated high up, almost « celestial »), while at the same time it encompasses, without concern for geographical verisimilitude, the greatest possible number of different phenomena and representative specimens, typical of what the earth can offer as curiosities, sometimes even imaginary, dreamlike, unreal, fantastic motifs: fields, woods, anthropomorphic mountains, villages and cities, deserts and forests, rainbows and storms, swamps and rivers, rivers and volcanoes.
For example, the « Bayart Rock », which borders the Meuse not far from Patinir‘s native town of Dinant.
In addition to this panoramic perspective, Patinir uses aerial perspective – theorized at the time by Leonardo da Vinci – by dividing the space into three color planes: brown-ochre for the first plane, green for the middle plane and blue for the distant plane.
However, the painter preserves the visibility of the totality of details with a meticulousness, minutiae and preciousness worthy of the Flemish masters of the XVth century, who, by tending towards a quantitative infinity (consisting in showing everything), sought to approach a qualitative infinity (allowing us to see everything).
For their part, the authors of the weltlandschaft thesis, after showering with praise, do not hesitate to strongly relativize his contribution, saying:
« For landscape painting to become anything other than a virtuoso but compulsive accumulation of motifs, and more precisely, the quasi-documentary capture of an infinitesimal fragment of contingent reality, we have to wait for the XVIIth century and the full maturity of Dutch painting… ».
And it’s here that the trap of this approach, which consists in making us believe that the advent of landscape as an autonomous genre, its so-called « secularization », is simply the result of emancipation from a medieval and religious mental matrix, considered necessarily retrograde, for which landscape was reduced to a pure emanation or incarnation of divine power, is clearly identified.
Patinir, the first, would thus have demonstrated a purely « modern » aesthetic conception, and these « realistic » landscapes would mark the transition from a religious – and therefore obscurantist – cultural paradigm to a modern one, i.e. one devoid of meaning… which he would later be criticized for.
This is how the romantic and fantastic minds of the XVIIth and XVIIIth centuries viewed the artists of the XVth and XVIth centuries.
Von Baldass was undoubtedly influenced by the writings of Goethe, who, no doubt in a moment of enthusiasm for Greek paganism, analyzed the increasingly diminished role of religious figures in XVIth-century Flemish paintings and deduced that it was no longer the religious subject that was the subject, but the landscape.
Just as Rubens would have used the pretext of painting Adam and Eve expelled from Paradise to be able to paint nudes, Patinir would simply have seized the pretext of a biblical passage to be able to indulge his true passion, landscape…
A little detour via Hieronymus Bosch
A fresh look at Patinir’s work clearly demonstrates the error of this analysis.
To arrive at a more accurate reading, I suggest a detour to Hieronymus Bosch, whose spirit was very much alive among Erasmus‘ circle of friends in Antwerp (Gérard David, Quentin Massys, Jan Wellens Cock, Albrecht Dürer, etc.), of which Patinir was a member.
Bosch, contrary to the clichés still in vogue today, is above all a pious and moralizing spirit. If he shows vice, it’s not so much to praise it as to make us aware of just how much it attracts us. Faithful to the Augustinian traditions of Devotio Moderna, promoted by the Brothers of the Common Life (a spiritual renewal movement to which he was close), Bosch believes that man’s attachment to earthly things leads him to sin. This is the central theme of all his work, the spirit of which can only be penetrated by reading The Imitation of Christ, written, in all probability, by the founding soul of the Devotio Moderna, Geert Groote (1340-1384), or his disciple, Thomas à Kempis (1379-1471), to whom this work is generally attributed.
In this work, the most widely read in human history after the Bible, we read:
« Vanity of vanities, all is vanity, except loving God and serving Him alone.
Sovereign wisdom is to strive for the kingdom of heaven by despising the world.
—Vanity, then, to hoard perishable riches and hope in them.
—Vanity to aspire to honors and to rise to the highest.
—Vanity, to follow the desires of the flesh and seek that for which one must soon be rigorously punished.
—Vanity, to wish for a long life and not care about living well.
—Vanity, to think only of the present life and not to foresee what will follow it.
—Vanity, to cling to what passes so quickly and not hasten towards the joy that never ends.
Remember often the words of the wise man: the eye is not satisfied with what it sees, nor the ear with what it hears.
Apply yourselves, therefore, to detaching your heart from the love of visible things, to bring it entirely to the invisible ones, for those who follow the lure of their senses defile their souls and lose the grace of God. »
Bosch treats this subject with great compassion and humor in his painting The Hay Wagon (Prado Museum, Madrid).
The allegory of straw already exists in the Old Testament. Isaiah 40:6 :
« All flesh is grass,
and all its brightness like the flower of the field;
The grass withers, the flower withers,
when the breath of Yahweh passes over it.
« Yes, the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower withers,
but the word of our God
is fulfilled forever.«
It was echoed in the New Testament by the apostle Peter (1:24):
« For all flesh is like grass,
and all its glory like the flower of grass.
The grass withers,
and the flower falls. »
Johannes Brahms uses this passage in the second movement of his German Requiem.
Bosch‘s triptych depicts a hay wagon, an allegory of the vanity of earthly riches, pulled by strange creatures on their way to hell.
The Duke of Burgundy, the Emperor of Germany and even the Pope himself (this is the time of Julius II…) follow close behind, while a dozen or so characters fight to the death for a blade of straw. It’s a bit like the huge speculative securities bubble that is leading our era into a great depression…
It’s easy to imagine the bankers who sabotaged the G20 summit to perpetuate their system, which is so profitable in the very short term. But this corruption doesn’t just affect the big boys. In the foreground of the picture, an abbot has entire sacks of hay filled, a false dentist and also gypsies cheat people for a bit of straw.
The peddler and the Homo Viator
The closed triptych sums up the same topos in the form of a peddler (not the prodigal son). This peddler, eternal homo viator, is an allegory of Man who fights to stay on the right path and insists on staying on it.
In another version of the same subject painted by Bosch (Museum Boijmans Beuningen, Rotterdam), the peddler advances op een slof en een schoen (on a slipper and a shoe), i.e. he chooses precariousness, leaving the visible world of sin (we see a brothel and drunkards) and abandoning his material possessions.
With his staff (symbol of faith), he fends off the infernal dogs (symbol of temptation), who try to hold him back.
Once again, these are not manifestations of Bosch‘s exuberant imagination, but of a metaphorical language common at the time. We find this representation in the margin of the famous Luttrell Psalter, a XIVth-century English psalter.
This theme of homo viator, the man who detaches himself from earthly goods, is also recurrent in the art and literature of this period, particularly since the Dutch translation of Pèlerinage de la vie et de l’âme humaine (pilgrimage of life and the human soul), written in 1358 by the Norman Cistercian monk Guillaume de Degulleville (1295-after 1358).
A miniature from this work shows a soul on its way, dressed as a peddler.
Nevertheless, while in the XIVth century this spiritual requirement may have dictated a sometimes excessive rigorism, the liberating laughter of nascent humanism (Brant, Erasmus, Rabelais, etc.) would bring happier, freer colors to Flemish Brabant culture (Bosch, Matsys, Bruegel), albeit later stifled by the dictates of the Council of Trent.
Man’s foolish attachment to earthly goods became a laughing matter. Published in Basel in 1494, Sébastien Brant’s Ship of Fools, a veritable inventory of all the follies that can lead man to his doom, left its mark on an entire generation, which rediscovered creativity and optimism thanks to the liberating laughter of Erasmus and his disciple, the Christian humanist François Rabelais.
In any case, for Bosch, Patinir and the Devotio Moderna, contemplation was the very opposite of pessimism and scholastic passivity. For them, laughter is the ideal antidote to despair, acedia (weariness) and melancholy.
Contemplation thus took on a new dimension. Each member of the faithful is encouraged to live out his or her Christian commitment, through personal experience and individual imitation of Christ. They must stop blaming themselves on the great figures of the Bible and Sacred History.
Man can no longer rely on the intercession of the Virgin Mary, the apostles and the saints. While following their examples, he must give personal content to the ideal of the Christian life. Driven to action, each individual, fully aware of his or her sinful nature, is constantly led to choose good over evil. These are just a few of the cultural backgrounds that enable us to approach Patinir’s landscapes in a different way.
Charon crossing the Styx
Patinir’s painting Charon Crossing the Styx (Prado Museum, Madrid), which combines ancient and Christian traditions, will serve here as our « Rosetta stone ». Inspired by the sixth book of the Aeneid, in which the Roman writer Virgil describes the catabasis, or descent into hell, or Dante‘s Inferno (3, line 78) taken from Virgil, Patinir places a boat at the center of the work.
The tall figure standing in this boat is Charon, the Ferryman of the Underworld, usually portrayed as a gloomy, sinister old man. His task is to ferry the souls of the deceased across the River Styx.
In payment, Charon takes a coin placed in the mouths of the corpses. The passenger in the boat is thus a human soul.
Although the scene takes place after the person’s physical death, the soul – and this may come as a surprise – is tormented by the choice between Heaven and Hell.
Since the Council of Trent, it has been considered that a bad life irrevocably sends man to Hell from the moment of his death. But Christian faith continues, even today, to distinguish the Last Judgment from what is known as the « particular judgment ».
According to this concept, which is sometimes disputed within denominations, at the moment of death, although our final fate is fixed (Hebrews 9:27), all the consequences of this particular Judgment will not be drawn until the general Judgment, which will take place when Christ returns at the end of time.
So, the « particular judgment » that is supposed to immediately follow our death, concerns our last act of freedom, prepared by all that our life has been. Helping us to contemplate this ultimate moment therefore seems to be the primary aim of Patinir‘s painting, with other metaphors thrown in for good measure.
However, a closer look at the lower part of the painting reveals a contradiction that is absent from Virgil’s poem. While Hell is on the right (Cerberus, the three-headed dog guarding the gateway to Hell, can be seen), the gateway seems easily accessible, with splendid trees dotting the lawns.
To the left is Paradise. An angel tries to attract the attention of the soul in the boat, but it seems much more attracted by a seemingly welcoming Hell.
What’s more, the dimly-lit path to paradise seems perilous, with rocks, swamps and other dangerous obstacles. Once again, it’s our senses that may lead us to make a literally hellish choice.
The subject of the painting is clearly that of the bivium, the binary choice at the crossroads that offers the pilgrim viewer the choice between the path of vice and that of salvation.
This theme was widespread at the time. We find it again in Sébastien Brant‘s Ship of Fools, in the form of Hercules at the crossroads. In this illustration, on the left, at the top of a hill, a naked woman represents vice and idleness. Behind her, death smiles down on us.
On the right, planted at the top of a higher hill, at the end of a rocky path, awaits virtue symbolized by work. Let’s also remember that the Gospel (Matthew 7:13-14) clearly evokes the choice we will face:
« Enter by the narrow gate.
For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction,
and there are many who enter by it.
But the gate is narrow and the way to life is narrow,
and there are few who find it ».
Landscape as an object of contemplation
The art historian Reindert Leonard Falkenburg, in his 1985 doctoral thesis, was the first to note that Patinir takes pleasure in transposing this metaphorical language to the whole of his landscape.
Although the image of impassable rocks as a metaphor for the virtue achieved by choosing the difficult path is nothing new, Patinir exploits this idea with unprecedented virtuosity.
We thus discover that the theme of man courageously turning away from the temptation of a world that traps our sensorium, is the underlying theo-philosophical theme of almost all Patinir’s landscapes. In this way, his work finds its raison d’être as an object of contemplation, where man measures himself against the infinite.Let’s return to our Landscape with Saint Jerome by Patinir (National Gallery, London).
Here we discover the « narrow gate » leading to a difficult path that takes us to the first plateau. This is not the highest mountain. The highest, like the Tower of Babylon, is a symbol of pride.
Next, let’s look at Resting on the Road to Egypt (Prado Museum, Madrid). At the side of the road, Mary is seated, and in front of her, on the ground, are the peddler’s staff and his typical basket.
In conclusion, we could say that, driven by his spiritual and humanist fervor, by painting increasingly impassable rocks – reflecting the immense virtue of those who decide to climb them – Patinir elaborates not « realistic » landscapes, but « spiritual landscapes », dictated by the immense need to tell the spiritual journey of the soul.
Hence, far from being mere aesthetic objects, his spiritual landscapes serve contemplation.
Like a half-ironic mirror image, they enable those who wish to do so to prepare for the choices their soul will face during, and after, life’s pilgrimage.
Bibliography:
- R.L. Falkenburg, Joachim Patinir, Het landschap als beeld van de levenspelgrimage, Nijmegen, 1985;
- Maurice Pons and André Barret, Patinir ou l’harmonie du monde, Robert Laffont, 1980;
- Eric de Bruyn, De vergeten beeldentaal van Jheronimus Bosch, Adr. Heinen, s’Hertogenbosch, 2001;
- Dirk Bax, Hieronymus Bosch, his picture-writing deciphered, A. A. Balkema, Capetown, 1979;
- Georgette Epinay-Burgard, Gérard Groote, fondateur de la Dévotion Moderne, Brepols, 1998.
- Karel Vereycken, Devotio Moderna, cradle of Humanism in the North, Artkarel.com, 2011;
- Karel Vereycken, With Hieronymus Bosch on the track of the Sublime, Schiller Institute, 2007.
- Karel Vereycken, How Erasmus Folly saved our Civilization, Schiller Institute, 2004.
The ancient practice of debt cancellation
This article in RUSSIAN (pdf)
Cet article en FRANCAIS (en ligne)
While anyone with a modicum of rationality knows that a huge proportion of the world’s debts are absolutely unpayable, it’s a fact that today any debt cancellation, however odious or illegitimate, remains taboo.
By Karel Vereycken, December 2020.
Debt repayment is presented by heads of state and government, central banks, the IMF and the mainstream press as imperative, inevitable, indisputable, compulsory. Citizens have elected their governments, so they must resign themselves to paying the debt. For not to pay is more than violating a symbol: it is to exclude oneself from civilization, and to renounce in advance any new credit that is granted only to « good payers ». What counts is not the effectiveness of the act, but the expression of one’s « good faith », i.e. one’s willingness to submit to the strongest. The only possible discussion is how to modulate the distribution of the necessary sacrifices.
It seems that the ultra-liberal, monetarist model that has been surreptitiously imposed on us is that of the Roman Empire: zero debt for states and cities, and no debt forgiveness for citizens!
In his treatise on Duties (De officiis), written in 44-43, Cicero, who had just quelled a revolt by people demanding a debt remission, justifies the radical nature of his policy towards indebtedness:
« What does the establishment of new debt accounts [i.e., remission] mean, if not that you buy land with my money, that you have this land, and that I don’t have my money? That’s why we have to make sure there are no debts, which can harm the state. There are many ways of avoiding it, but if there are debts, not in such a way that the rich lose their property and the debtors acquire the property of others. Indeed, nothing maintains the State more strongly than good faith (fides), which cannot exist if there is no need to pay one’s debts. Never has anyone acted more forcefully to avoid paying their debts than under my Consulate. It was attempted by men of all kinds and ranks, with weapons in hand, and by setting up camps. But I resisted them in such a way that this entire evil was eliminated from the State. »
What has been carefully concealed is that another human practice has also existed: moratoria, partial and even generalized debt cancellations have taken place repeatedly throughout history and were carried out according to different contexts.
Often, proclamations of generalized debt cancellation were the initiative of self-preservation-minded rulers, aware that the only way to avoid complete social breakdown was to declare a « washing of the shelves » – those on which consumer debts were inscribed – cancelling them to start afresh.
The American anthropologist David Graeber, in Debt, the first 5000 years (2011), pointed out that the first word we have for « freedom » in any human language is Sumerian amargi, meaning freed from debt and, by extension, freedom in general, the literal meaning being « return to the mother » insofar as, once debts were cancelled, all debt slaves could return home.
Debt cancellations were sometimes the result of bitter social struggles, wars and crises. What is certain is that debt has never been a detail of history.
David Graeber sums it up:
« For millennia, the struggle between rich and poor has largely taken the form of conflicts between creditors and debtors – disputes over the justice or injustice of interest payments, peonage, amnesty, property seizure, restitution to the creditor, confiscation of sheep, seizure of vineyards and the sale of the debtor’s children as slaves. And over the last 5,000 years, with remarkable regularity, popular insurrections have begun in the same way: with the ritual destruction of debt registers – tablets, papyri, ledgers or other media specific to a particular time and place. (After which, the rebels generally attacked cadastres and tax registers.) »
And as the great ancient scholar Moses Finley was fond of saying,
« All revolutionary movements have had the same program: cancellation of debts and redistribution of land. »
Let us now examine some historical precedents for voluntary debt forgiveness.
Debt cancellation in Mesopotamia
The earliest known debt cancellation was proclaimed in Mesopotemia by Entemena of Lagash c. 2400 BCE.
One of his successors, Urukagina, who was the last ruler of the 1st Dynasty of Lagash, is known for his code of rules that includes debt cancelation.
Urukagina’s code is the first recorded example of government reform, seeking to achieve a higher level of freedom and equality by limiting the power of priesthood and a usurous land-owner oligarchy. Usury and seizure of property for debt payment were outlawed. « The widow and the orphan were no longer at the mercy of the powerful man ».
Similar measures were enacted by later Sumerian, Babylonian and Assyrian rulers of Mesopotamia, where they were known as « freedom decrees » (ama-gi in Sumerian).
This same theme exists in an ancient bilingual Hittite–Hurrian text entitled « The Song of Debt Release ».
The reign of Hammurabi, King of Babylon (located in present-day Iraq), began in 1792 BC and lasted 42 years.
The inscriptions preserved on a 2-meter-high stele in the Louvre are known as the « Hammurabi Code ». It was placed in a public square in Babylon. If it is a long, very severe code of justice, prescribing the application of the law of retaliation (« an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth »), its epilogue nevertheless proclaims that « the powerful cannot oppress the weak, justice must protect the widow and the orphan (…) in order to render justice to the oppressed ».
Hammurabi, like the other rulers of the Mesopotamian city-states, repeatedly proclaimed a general cancellation of citizens’ debts to public authorities, their high officials and dignitaries.
Thanks to the deciphering of numerous documents written in cuneiform, historians have found indisputable evidence of four general debt cancellations during Hammurabi’s reign (at the beginning of his reign in 1792, in 1780, in 1771 and in 1762 BC).
Babylonian society was predominantly agricultural. The temple and palace, and the scribes and craftsmen they employed, depended for their sustenance on a vast peasantry from whom land, tools and livestock were rented.
In exchange, each farmer had to offer part of his production as rent. However, when climatic hazards or epidemics made normal production impossible, producers went into debt.
The inability of peasants to repay debts could also lead to their enslavement (family members could also be enslaved for debt).
The Hammurabi Code obviously wanted to change this. Article 48 of the Code of Laws states:
« Whoever owes a loan, and a storm buries the grain, or the harvest fails, or the grain does not grow for lack of water, need not give any grain to the creditor that year, he wipes the tablet of the debt in the water and pays no interest for that year. »
This ideal of justice is notably supported by the terms kittum, « justice as the guarantor of public order », and « justice as the restoration of equity. » It was asserted in particular during the « edicts of grace » (designated by the term mîsharum), a general remission of public and private debts in the kingdom (including the release of people working for another person to repay a debt).
Thus, to preserve the social order, Hammurabi and the ruling power, acting in their own interests and in the interests of society’s future, periodically agreed to cancel all debts and restore the rights of peasants, in order to save the threatened old order in times of crisis, or as a kind of reset at the beginning of a sovereign’s reign.
Proclamations of general debt cancellation are not confined to the reign of Hammurabi; they began long before him and continued afterwards. There is evidence of debt cancellations as far back as 2400 BC, six centuries before Hammurabi’s reign, in the city of Lagash (Sumer); the most recent date back to 1400 BC in Nuzi.
In all, historians have accurately identified some thirty general debt cancellations in Mesopotamia between 2400 and 1400 BC.
These proclamations of debt cancellation were the occasion for great festivities, usually during the annual spring festival. Under the Hammurabi dynasty, the tradition of destroying the tablets on which debts were written was established.
In fact, the public authorities kept precise accounts of debts on tablets kept in the temple. Hammurabi died in 1749 BC after a 42-year reign. His successor, Samsuiluna, cancelled all debts to the state and decreed the destruction of all debt tablets except those relating to commercial debts.
When Ammisaduqa, the last ruler of the Hammurabi dynasty, acceded to the throne in 1646 BC, the general cancellation of debts he proclaimed was very detailed. The aim was clearly to prevent certain creditors from taking advantage of certain families. The annulment decree stipulates that official creditors and tax collectors who have expelled peasants must compensate them and return their property, on pain of execution.
After 1400 BC, no deeds of debt cancellation have been found, as the tradition has been lost. Land was taken over by large private landowners, and debt slavery returned.
In Egypt
In Ancient Egypt interest-bearing debt did not exist for most of its history. When it started spreading in the Late Period, the rulers of Egypt regulated it and a number of debt remissions are known to have occurred during the Ptolemaic era, including the one whose proclamation was inscribed on the Rosetta Stone.
Now on display at the British Museum in London, the « Rosetta Stone » was discovered on July 15, 1799 at el-Rashid (Rosetta) by one of Napoleon’s soldiers during the Egyptian campaign. It contains the same text written in hieroglyphs, demotic (Egyptian cursive script) and Greek, giving Jean-François Champollion (1790-1832) the key to the passage from one language to another.
This was a decree issued by Pharaoh Ptolemy V on March 27, 196 BC, announcing an amnesty for debtors and prisoners. The Greek Ptolemy dynasty that ruled Egypt institutionalized the regular cancellation of debts.
It was perpetuating known practices, since Greek texts mention that Pharaoh Bakenranef, who ruled Lower Egypt from c. 725 to 720 BC, had promulgated a decree abolishing debt slavery and condemning debt imprisonment.
TRANSCRIPTION OF THE PHARAOH’S DECREE
ON THE ROSETTA STONE:
Assembled the Chief Priests and Prophets there and those who enter the inner temple to worship the gods, and the Fanbearers and Sacred Scribes and all the other priests of the temples of the earth who have come to meet the king at Memphis, for the feast of the Assumption of PTOLEMEE, THE LIVING FOREVER, THE BELOVED OF PTAH, THE GOD EPIPHANES EUCHARISTOS, the successor of his father, All assembled in the temple of Memphis on this day when it was declared:
“that King PTOLEMEE, THE LIVING FOREVER, THE BELOVED OF PTAH, THE GOD EPIPHANES EUCHARISTOS, the son of King Ptolemy and Queen Arsinoe, the Philopator Gods, both benefactors of the temple and those who dwell therein, as well as their subjects, being a god from a god and the goddess loves Horus the son of Isis and Osiris who avenged his father Osiris by being favorably disposed towards the gods, delivered to the revenues of the temples silver and corn and undertook much expenditure for the prosperity of Egypt, and the maintenance of the temples, and was generous to all out of his own resources ;
“and exempted them from some of the revenues and taxes levied in Egypt and alleviated others so that his people and all others could be in prosperity during his reign ;
“and that he cleared the debts to the crown for many Egyptians and for the rest of the kingdom; ”
The existence of this decree therefore confirms that the practice had existed for many centuries.
The Greek historian Diodorus Siculus (Ist Century BC) provides the following rationale for abolishing the debt bondage by Pharaoh Bakenranef:
« For it would be absurd… that a soldier, at the moment perhaps when he was setting forth to fight for his fatherland, should be haled to prison by his creditor for an unpaid loan, and that the greed of private citizens should in this way endanger the safety of all »
As one can see here, one of the very pragmatic reasons for debt cancellation was that the Pharaoh wanted to have a peasantry capable of producing enough food and, if need be, able to take part in military campaigns. For both of these reasons, it was important to ensure that peasants were not expelled from their lands under the thumb of creditors.
In another part of the region, the Assyrian emperors of the 1st millennium BC also adopted the tradition of debt cancellation.
In Greece: Solon of Athens
In Greece, the Athenian lawmaker Solon (c. 638 BC–558 BC), in order to rectify the widespread serfdom and slavery that had run rampant by the 6th century BCE, introduced a set of laws nown as the Seisachtheia introducing debt relief.
Before Solon, according to the account of the Constitution of the Athenians attributed to Aristotle, debtors unable to repay their creditors would surrender their land to them, then becoming hektemoroi, i.e. serfs who cultivated what used to be their own land and gave one sixth of produce to their creditors. However, should the debt exceed the perceived value of debtor’s total assets, then the debtor and his family would become the creditor’s slaves as well. The same would result if a man defaulted on a debt whose collateral was the debtor’s personal freedom. The fight for debt relief and the fight to abolish slavery were in practice identical.
Solon’s seisachtheia laws immediately cancelled all outstanding debts, retroactively emancipated all previously enslaved debtors, reinstated all confiscated serf property to the hektemoroi, and forbade the use of personal freedom as collateral in all future debts. The laws instituted a ceiling to maximum property size – regardless of the legality of its acquisition (i.e. by marriage), meant to prevent excessive accumulation of land by powerful families.
In the Torah and Old Testament
Social justice, particularly in the form of forgiving debts that shackle the poor to the rich, is a leitmotif in the history of Judaism. It was practiced in Jerusalem in the 5th century BC.
The writing of the Torah was completed at this time. Deuteronomy, 15 states:
The Year for Canceling Debts
15 At the end of every seven years you must cancel debts.
2 This is how it is to be done: Every creditor shall cancel any loan they have made to a fellow Israelite. They shall not require payment from anyone among their own people, because the Lord’s time for canceling debts has been proclaimed.
3 You may require payment from a foreigner, but you must cancel any debt your fellow Israelite owes you.
4 However, there need be no poor people among you, for in the land the Lord your God is giving you to possess as your inheritance, he will richly bless you,
5 if only you fully obey the Lord your God and are careful to follow all these commands I am giving you today.
6 For the Lord your God will bless you as he has promised, and you will lend to many nations but will borrow from none. You will rule over many nations but none will rule over you.
7 If anyone is poor among your fellow Israelites in any of the towns of the land the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hardhearted or tightfisted toward them.
8 Rather, be openhanded and freely lend them whatever they need.
9 Be careful not to harbor this wicked thought: “The seventh year, the year for canceling debts, is near,” so that you do not show ill will toward the needy among your fellow Israelites and give them nothing. They may then appeal to the Lord against you, and you will be found guilty of sin.
10 Give generously to them and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to.
11 There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy in your land.
Thus, the Israelites were obliged to free Hebrew slaves who had sold themselves to them for debt, and to offer them some of the produce of their small livestock, their fields and their wine presses, so that they would not return home empty-handed.
As the law is too rarely applied, Leviticus reaffirms it by modulating it:
The Year of Jubilee
8 “‘Count off seven sabbath years—seven times seven years—so that the seven sabbath years amount to a period of forty-nine years.
9 Then have the trumpet sounded everywhere on the tenth day of the seventh month; on the Day of Atonement sound the trumpet throughout your land.
10 Consecrate the fiftieth year and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you; each of you is to return to your family property and to your own clan.
11 The fiftieth year shall be a jubilee for you; do not sow and do not reap what grows of itself or harvest the untended vines.
12 For it is a jubilee and is to be holy for you; eat only what is taken directly from the fields.
13 “‘In this Year of Jubilee everyone is to return to their own property.
14 “‘If you sell land to any of your own people or buy land from them, do not take advantage of each other.
15 You are to buy from your own people on the basis of the number of years since the Jubilee. And they are to sell to you on the basis of the number of years left for harvesting crops.
16 When the years are many, you are to increase the price, and when the years are few, you are to decrease the price, because what is really being sold to you is the number of crops.
17 Do not take advantage of each other, but fear your God. I am the Lord your God.
Today, some will tell you that under these conditions, a year before the jubilee date, credit would necessarily be scarce and expensive, and that debt would thus find its limit!
This is a mistake, because to ensure that the law is followed, the codes describe in detail how purchases and sales of goods between private individuals must be carried out according to the number of years elapsed since the previous jubilee (i.e., the number of years remaining before the goods must be returned to their previous owner).
Another passage, this time from the prophet Jeremiah, vividly illustrates the scope of the law on the remission of debts.
Faced with the advance of enemy armies towards Jerusalem in 587 B.C., Jeremiah supports, in God’s name, the undertaking of King Zedekiah (then ruler of the Kingdom of Judea), who demands the immediate release of all those enslaved for debt from the powerful forces of his kingdom (Jer. 34:8-17).
Jeremiah forcefully recalls the ancient demand for the freeing of slaves… which the king, in fact, needs to patriotically reunite the social classes before the battle, and give himself sufficient troops free of all servile obligations!
A passage in the Book of (the prophet) Nehemiah (447 BC), the governor of Persian Judea under Artaxerxes I of Persia (465–424 BC), influenced by the ancient Mesopotamian tradition, also proclaims the cancellation of debts owed by indebted Jews to their rich compatriots.
The social situation Nehemiah discovered in Judea was appalling. To remedy the problem, Nehemiah placed the law of debt relief within a religious framework, the Covenant with Yahweh. From then on, it was God himself who commanded the forgiveness of debts and the liberation of slaves and their land, for the land belonged to God alone.
Nehemiah Helps the Poor
« Now the men and their wives raised a great outcry against their fellow Jews.
2 Some were saying, “We and our sons and daughters are numerous; in order for us to eat and stay alive, we must get grain.”
3 Others were saying, “We are mortgaging our fields, our vineyards and our homes to get grain during the famine.”
4 Still others were saying, “We have had to borrow money to pay the king’s tax on our fields and vineyards.
5 Although we are of the same flesh and blood as our fellow Jews and though our children are as good as theirs, yet we have to subject our sons and daughters to slavery. Some of our daughters have already been enslaved, but we are powerless, because our fields and our vineyards belong to others.”
6 When I heard their outcry and these charges, I was very angry.
7 I pondered them in my mind and then accused the nobles and officials. I told them, “You are charging your own people interest!” So I called together a large meeting to deal with them
8 and said: “As far as possible, we have bought back our fellow Jews who were sold to the Gentiles. Now you are selling your own people, only for them to be sold back to us!” They kept quiet, because they could find nothing to say.
9 So I continued, “What you are doing is not right. Shouldn’t you walk in the fear of our God to avoid the reproach of our Gentile enemies?
10 I and my brothers and my men are also lending the people money and grain. But let us stop charging interest!
11 Give back to them immediately their fields, vineyards, olive groves and houses, and also the money you are charging them—one percent of the money, grain, new wine and olive oil.”
12 “We will give it back,” they said. “And we will not demand anything more from them. We will do as you say.”
If we add to these passages the countless verses forbidding the lending of interest to fellow human beings and the taking of property as collateral, we get an idea of what the Israelites in the land of Canaan had put in place to try and maintain a certain social equilibrium.
Alas, in the first century AD, debt forgiveness and the freeing of slaves from debt were swept away from all Near Eastern cultures, including Judea.
The social situation there had deteriorated to such an extent that Rabbi Hillel was able to issue a decree requiring debtors to sign away their right to debt forgiveness.
In the Bible and New Testament
What happened to debt forgiveness in the New Testament?
While the Acts of the Apostles and the writings of the Fathers of the Church sometimes express a great docility, Jesus’ position on the forgiveness of debts, as reported repeatedly and most forcefully in Luke’s Gospel, chapter 4:16-21, appears to be marked by a revolutionary prophetic breath.
Luke places the passage at the beginning of Jesus’ public life. He makes it a key to everything that follows.
16 Jesus went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. He stood up to read,
17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:
18 “The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
20 Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him.
21 He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”
Let’s not forget that the « year of the Lord’s favor (Jubilee Year) » to which he called, demanded at once rest for the land, forgiveness of debts and the liberation of slaves.
In the midst of the slave-owning Roman Empire, which fiercely rejected the concept of debt forgiveness, Jesus’ declaration could only be seen as a declaration of war on the ruling system.
Before he was arrested, Jesus made a highly symbolic material gesture: he forcefully overturned the tables of the money-changers in the Jerusalem temple. For the Jewish high priests and the Roman authorities, this was too much.
Peace of Westphalia of 1648
In 1648, after five years of negotiations, led by the French diplomat Abel Servien on the instructions of Cardinal Mazarin, the “Peace of Westphalia” was signed, putting an end to the Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648).
Long before the UN Charter, 1648 made national sovereignty, mutual respect and the principle of non-interference the foundations of international law.
But there was more. As we have documented, the peace deal also included the cancelation of debts that had become the very reason for continuing the war.
Unpayable, unsustainable and illegitimate debts, interests, bonds, annuities and financial claims, explicitly identified as fueling a dynamic of perpetual war, were examined, sorted out and reorganized, most often through the cancellation of debts (articles 13 and 35, 37, 38 and 39), through moratoria or debt rescheduling according to specific timetables (article 69).
Article 40 concludes that debt cancellations will apply in most cases, “and yet the Sums of Money, which during the War have been exacted bona fide, and with a good intent, by way of Contributions, to prevent greater Evils by the Contributors, are not comprehended herein. » (Implying that these debts would have to be honored.)
Finally, looking to the future, for Commerce to be “reestablished”, the treaty abolished many tolls and customs established by “private” authorities for they were obstacles to the exchange of physical goods and know-how and hence to mutual development. (Art. 69 and 70).
TREATY OF WESTPHALIA (1648)
Art. 13:
“Reciprocally, the Elector of Bavaria renounces entirely for himself and his Heirs and Successors the Debt of Thirteen Millions, as also all his Pretensions in Upper Austria; and shall deliver to his Imperial Majesty immediately after the Publication of the Peace, all Acts and Arrests obtain’d for that end, in order to be made void and null.”
Art. 35:
“That the Annual Pension of the Lower Marquisate, payable to the Upper Marquisate, according to former Custom, shall by virtue of the present Treaty be entirely taken away and annihilated; and that for the future nothing shall be pretended or demanded on that account, either for the time past or to come.”
In the United States
It is poorly known that in the United States, on three separate occasions, governments have successfully repudiated public debts owed to private bankers?
First, in the 1830s, four States repudiated their debts – Mississippi, Arkansas, Florida and Michigan. The creditors were mainly British.
The Russian born Alexander Nahum Sack (1890-1955), a professor of Russian law specialized in international financial legislation, wrote in this regard: “One of the main reasons justifying these repudiations was the squandering of the sums borrowed: they were usually borrowed to establish banks or build railways; but the banks failed and the railway lines were never built. These questionable operations were often the result of agreements between crooked members of the government and dishonest creditors.” (Les effets des transformations des États sur leurs dettes publiques et autres obligations financières : traité juridique et financier, Recueil Sirey, Paris, 1927, p. 158).
Second, and more importantly, following the American Civil War (1861-1865), the US Federal government summoned the Confederate States to repudiate the debts they had contracted in order to carry on the war.
In an article titled « The Rebel Debt », the New York Times, on Nov. 9, 1865, wrote the following:
« The debts of the Confederate Government, contracted for the purposes of war, and for all other purposes, were swept away when the Confederacy fell. All its currency, bills, bonds, treasury notes, and « promises to pay » of every kind, became worthless to the holders, even though those holders had given for them real property or services of a positive value. After the fall of Richmond, hundred-dollar bills, based on the faith and credit of the Confederacy, were sold for a nickel cent a piece, and thousand-dollar notes were exchanged evenly for three-cent shinplasters. There is little if any talk in any part of the South about assuming any part of this debt. Its magnitude is appalling, and the States of the South did not become responsible for it in their individual capacity. On its face it was declared to be payable upon the establishment of the independence of the Southern Confederacy — thus linking its fortunes with that of the rebel government; and it was but logical that the Confederacy’s credit should cease to have a value when the Confederacy itself ceased to have an existence. »
The creditors had purchased securities issued by European bankers on behalf of the Confederate States, mainly in London and Paris. Among the creditors was the German Banque Erlanger of Paris and its London subsidiary. The risk was remunerated by an interest rate of 7% per annum, relatively high for the period.
The Civil War debt held by individual Confederate states (South Carolina, Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas) at the end of the war has been estimated at close to $67 million. Even larger, the debt of the Confederate States of America, which was reported to be $1.4 billion on October 1, 1864. And, if one adds in compensation for freed slaves (which was a rumored demand of Southerners), valued at $1.75 billion in 1860, the total bill the South might have presented to the North amounted to $3.2 billion.
And the The New York Times continued:
« But there has appeared in many of the States, and still appears in some of them, a strong party desirous of assuming the payment of the debts contracted by the various States individually, in aid of rebellion, and while members of the Confederacy.
« It is the repudiation of these which has been effected in Mississippi, Alabama, North Carolina, and, as appears by this morning’s telegrams, also in Georgia, at the suggestion of the President; and it is the failure to repudiate this debt by South Carolina, which has disappointed the intelligent supporters of the President’s policy of reconstruction. This debt has been the subject of earnest debate in the Georgia State Convention now in session at Milledgeville; and it was in reference to this debate that the President (Andrew Johnson, who became president after Lincoln’s assassination in April 1865) sent a dispatch to the Provisional Governor of Georgia, in which was pointedly and vigorously set forth the course that ought to be followed by the convention.
« He remarked: ‘The people of Georgia should not hesitate one single moment in repudiating every single dollar of debt created for the purpose of aiding the rebellion against the Government of the United States. It will not do to levy and collect taxes from a State and people that are loyal and in the Union to pay a debt that was created to aid in taking them out and subverting the Constitution of the United States. I do not believe the great mass of the people of the State of Georgia, when left uninfluenced, will ever submit to the payment of a debt which was the main cause of bringing on their past and present suffering, the result of the rebellion. Those who invested their capital in the creation of this debt must meet their fate, and take it as one of the inevitable results of the rebellion, though it may seem hard to them. It should at once be made known, at home and abroad, that no debt contracted for the purpose of dissolving the Union can or ever will be paid by taxes levied on the people for such purpose.’
« There was nothing in the Constitution preventing the United States from repudiating its own debt. Numerous individual states had done this in the past. In the 1840s, and within the memory of many, a number of states had defaulted on or totally repudiated their debts because of the stresses brought on by the panic of 1837. Now, twenty years later, after a civil war, why should not the United States follow their example and wipe the slate clean?«
In 1868, following the Civil War, Congress submitted to the states three amendments as part of its Reconstruction program to guarantee equal civil and legal rights to Black citizens.
The Fourteenth Amendment to the US Constitution, among its provisions, grants citizenship to “All persons born or naturalized in the United States,” thereby granting citizenship to formerly enslaved people.
And relevant for our discussion, section four of the 14th amendment stipulates that while the debt of the Union are considered legitimate and should be honored, those of the Confederacy are what one could call an « odious debt » and shouldn’t be paid.
“The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law, including debts incurred for payment of pensions and bounties for services in suppressing insurrection or rebellion [by the Union], shall not be questioned. But neither the United States nor any State shall assume or pay any debt or obligation incurred in aid of insurrection or rebellion against the United States, or any claim for the loss or emancipation of any slave; but all such debts, obligations and claims shall be held illegal and void.«
As a result, the bondholders of Confederate debt were never repaid due to the repudiation decreed by the Federal government and the application of Section 4 of the 14th Amendment to the Constitution, since loans had served to finance the rebellion of the Southern States. It was the purpose of the loans, and above all the fact that they had been contracted by rebel forces, that was cited as justification. The reality was that imposing debt repayment would prevent any successful reconstruction policy, considered far more important.
Finally, a third wave of repudiations took place in the USA after 1877, when eight Southern States (Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, North Carolina, South Carolina and Tennessee) repudiated their debts on the grounds that the bonds issued during the period between the end of the American Civil War and 1877 had been used for illicit loans to corrupt politicians (including former slaves) who were supported by the Northern States. This repudiation was decided by (racist) government officials (often members of the Democrat party) who had returned to power in the South after the withdrawal of the federal troops who occupied the South until 1877.
During the Cold War
In the United States, Eisenhower was elected in November 1952.
His Secretary of State, John Foster Dulles, otherwise an evil man, noted that, despite the Marshall Plan, Europe, still burdened by a mountain of debt dating from before the First World War and the Treaty of Versailles, was unable to regain momentum.
So much so that it is in danger of turning to the USSR!
Action was called for. In 1953, under the leadership of German banker Hermann Abs, a former Deutsche Bank executive, a major conference was organized in London.
It was decided to write off 66% of Germany’s 30 billion marks in debt.
It was wisely agreed that annual repayments of German debt should never exceed 5% of export earnings. Those wishing to have their debts repaid by Germany should instead buy its exports, enabling it to honor its debts.
In other words, nothing like the madness recently imposed on Greece to « save » the euro!
Although this was done in the name of geopolitical principles, i.e. « in favor of some » but « against others », once again, it was in the name of a better future, i.e. a Europe capable of being the showcase of capitalism in the face of Moscow, that we were able to shed the weight of the past.
Tête d’apôtre
Van Eyck : la beauté,
prégustation de la sagesse divine
Same texte, english version
Jan Van Eyck (1390-1441). Comment saisir l’intention de ce grand peintre flamand dont cinq siècles nous séparent ?
A part regarder son œuvre, voici trois pistes que j’ai tenté de débroussailler pour vous :
- Le peintre était sans doute initié à la lectio divina , l’interprétation à plusieurs niveaux du sens profond des Saintes Ecritures ;
- L’influence du penseur religieux français Hugues de Saint-Victor (1096-1141), une figure méconnue mais majeure dont le cardinal philosophe Nicolas de Cues a pu s’inspirer ;
- Les conseils éventuels qu’a pu donner au peintre le théologien Denys le Chartreux (1401-1471), le confesseur de Philippe Le Bon, duc de Bourgogne, pour qui le peintre effectua des missions diplomatiques.
Par Karel Vereycken
Voici une bonne raison pour apprendre le néerlandais ! Lire dans le texte original le livre inspirant et bien écrit Landschap en Wereldbeeld, van Van Eyck tot Rembrandt (Paysage et vision du monde, de Van Eyck à Rembrandt) de l’historien d’art néerlandais Boudewijn Bakker (Paru en 2004 chez Thoth à Bossum, Pays-Bas, également disponible en anglais).
Dans un style précis et d’accès facile, Bakker nous offre une série de clés permettant au spectateur du XXIe siècle de renouveler le regard porté sur la peinture flamande et néerlandaise et de révéler son sens parfois un peu « caché »…
Ce qui parfois nous étonne aujourd’hui s’avère souvent des références largement partagées par les peintres, leurs commanditaires, les religieux et plus largement le grand public dans ces contrées.
Paradoxe
Avant de lire l’œuvre de Bakker, la peinture du Nord de l’Europe m’a souvent parue aller à l’opposé de la matrice philosophique et religieuse qui prévalait au XVe siècle, alors qu’elle en est l’expression.
Jusqu’ici, je pensais que, pour l’essentiel, la vision du monde qui prévalait à la fin du Moyen-Age se résumait au rejet du monde visible tel que nous le percevons par nos sens. Car ce monde, d’après la mésinterprétation de Saint Augustin et Platon par les scolastiques, n’est que tromperie et tentation, le diable en personne en quelque sorte.
Or, et c’est là que ce paradoxe se manifeste avec toute sa force éruptive, comment réconcilier ce rejet du visible avec en particulier l’œuvre du peintre flamand Van Eyck, qui nous montre des êtres humains animés de bonté, pleins de beauté et de douceur, entourés d’une nature belle, abondante et exubérante ?
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Adam, détail du retable de Gand (1432), Jan Van Eyck.
Comment ose-t-il, me demandais-je, nous montrer tant de beauté alors qu’à son époque la doctrine de la foi, s’érigeant en gardienne du temple, ne cessait de rappeler que l’Homme, dans son imperfection criante, n’est pas Dieu, et mettait systématiquement en garde contre les tentations de ce monde ?
Les tableaux ironiques mais extrêmement moralisateurs de Jérôme Bosch et de Joachim Patinier ne sont-ils pas là pour nous faire comprendre, avec une violence non-dissimulée mais avec humour et méthode, que l’origine du péché se trouve précisément dans notre attachement excessif aux biens terrestres et dans les plaisirs que nous croyons en tirer ?
Coïncidence des opposés
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Le cardinal philosophe Nicolas de Cues (Cusanus)
- Sans se référer explicitement à la méthode du grand théo-philosophe, le cardinal Nicolas de Cues, celle de la « coïncidence des opposés » (coincidentia oppositorum), c’est-à-dire la résolution de paradoxes d’apparence insolvable mais possible à partir d’un point de vue plus élevé et donc supérieur, Bakker démontre que le paradoxe que nous venons d’évoquer, n’en est, lui aussi, qu’un en apparence.
Pour comprendre cela, Bakker rappelle d’abord que pour le courant augustinien, pour qui l’homme a été créé à l’image vivante du créateur (Imago Viva Dei), la nature, n’est ni plus ni moins qu’une « théophanie », c’est-à-dire, pour ceux qui se rendent capable de la lire, la révélation d’une intention divine.
Pour ce courant, Dieu se révèle à l’homme, non pas par un seul, mais par « deux livres », dont le premier n’est autre que « le livre de la nature » qu’on apprécie par les yeux ; le deuxième étant la Bible à laquelle auquel on accède grâce aux yeux et aux oreilles.
Bakker souligne à ce propos le rôle, un peu oublié, de deux penseurs chrétiens de premier ordre qui, depuis l’hégémonie de l’aristotélisme introduit par saint Thomas d’Aquin, la montée du nominalisme et la contre-réforme, ont fini par tomber dans l’oubli.
Il s’agit en premier lieu de l’abbé et théologien français Hugues de Saint Victor (1096-1141), un des auteurs médiévaux ayant connu une large diffusion manuscrite à son époque, et de Denys le Chartreux (1402-1471), un ami néerlandais et collaborateur de Nicolas de Cues (1401-1464) et confesseur de Philippe le Bon, duc de Bourgogne (1396-1467).
Lectio divina de la nature ?
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Saint-Dominique lisant. Fresque de Fra Angelico.
- Par rapport à l’interprétation des peintures, l’approche de Bakker, qui en réalité a fait le travail que tout historien de l’art digne de ce nom devrait fournir avant de se livrer à des interprétations d’œuvres d’art, consiste dans la confrontation des tableaux avec, s’ils si elles existent, les écrits de leurs époques.
Dans cet exercice, Bakker formule l’hypothèse fertile que les chefs-d’œuvre de la peinture flamande, truffés d’autant d’énigmes et de mystères que nos belles cathédrales, se lisent « à plusieurs niveaux », tout comme l’exégèse biblique de l’époque faisait appel, pour les textes sacrés, à une méthode de lecture ancestrale, dite « à quatre niveaux ».
D’abord dans le judaïsme, bien avant l’arrivée de Jésus, l’étude de la Torah faisait appel à la « doctrine des quatre sens » :
- le sens littéral,
- le sens allégorique,
- le sens allusif, et
- le sens mystique (éventuellement caché, secret ou kabbalistique).
Ensuite, les chrétiens, en particulier Origène (185-254), puis Ambroise de Milan au IVè siècle, reprennent cette méthode pour la Lectio Divina, c’est-à-dire l’exercice de la lecture spirituelle visant, par la prière, à pénétrer le plus profondément possible un texte sacré.
Enfin, introduite au IVe siècle par Ambroise, Augustin fait de la Lectio Divina la base de la prière monastique. Elle sera reprise ensuite par Jérôme, Bède le Vénérable, Scot Erigène, Hugues de Saint-Victor, Richard de Saint-Victor, Alain de Lille, Bonaventure et s’imposera à Saint Thomas d’Aquin et Bernard de Clairvaux.
Bakker prend soin de préciser ces quatre niveaux de lecture :
- Le sens littéral est celui qui est issu de la compréhension linguistique de l’énoncé. Il raconte les faits et la « petite histoire » tout en replaçant l’écrit dans le contexte de l’époque ;
- Le sens allégorique. Vient du grec allos, autre, et agoreuein, dire. L’allégorie en énonçant une chose en dit aussi une autre. Ainsi l’allégorie explique ce que symbolise le récit ;
- Le sens moral ou tropologique (du latin tropos signifiant « changement »), en cherchant dans le texte des figures, des vices ou des vertus, des passions ou des étapes que l’esprit humain doit parcourir dans son ascension vers Dieu, nous indique les leçons que chacun peut en tirer pour sa propre vie dans le présent ;
- Le sens anagogique (adjectif provenant du grec anagogikos c’est-à-dire élévation), est obtenu par l’interprétation des Évangiles, afin de donner une idée des réalités dernières qui deviendront visibles à la fin des temps. En philosophie, chez Leibniz, « l’induction anagogique » est celle qui tente de remonter à une cause première.
Ces quatre sens ont été formulés au Moyen-Age dans un fameux distique latin : littera gesta docet, quid credas allegoria, moralis quid agas, quo tendas anagogia (la lettre enseigne les faits, l’allégorie ce que tu dois croire, la morale ce que tu dois faire, l’anagogie ce que tu dois viser).
La raison pour laquelle j’amène cette question de l’exégèse biblique à niveaux multiples, précise Bakker, c’est que dans le cadre de la vision du monde du Moyen-Age, on estimait que cette interprétation ne s’appliquait pas seulement à la Bible, mais tout autant à la création visible.
Gros plan de la page du livre devant lequel s’agenouille la Vierge dans l’Annonciation qui décore les volets extérieurs du retable de Gand de Jan Van Eyck (1432). En bas de la page, on lit clairement (en rouge) : « De visione dei », le titre de l’œuvre de Nicolas de Cues de 1453.
Nous voilà donc devant un sentiment amoureux de la création ? Pas du tout ! Loin du panthéisme (un péché), il s’agit de « lire », comme l’affirme Hugues de Saint-Victor, « avec les yeux de l’esprit », ce que « les yeux de la chair » ne sont pas capable de voir, un concept que reprendra Nicolas de Cues dans son œuvre de 1543 : Du tableau, ou la Vision de Dieu.
Le paradoxe se trouve ainsi résolu. Car, dans l’allégorie de la caverne évoquée par Platon dans La République, l’homme qui se trouve enchaîné devant une paroi où il ne voit que défiler des ombres projetées sur la paroi de la caverne, en mobilisant son intelligence, in fine se rend capable d’identifier les processus qui les engendrent.
Certes, l’homme ne peut pas « connaître » Dieu de façon directe. Cependant, en étudiant les effets de son action, il peut deviner son intention. C’est donc à travers Hugues de Saint Victor, que le courant augustinien et platonicien qui avait inspiré la Renaissance carolingienne refait surface à Paris.
Pour ce courant, la création comme un tout, du point de vue anagogique, est un reflet du paradis céleste et une référence directe vers l’omnipuissance, la beauté et la bonté divine.
Pour Bakker :
L’ensemble de ces interprétations sont faciles à illustrer avec les œuvres d’Augustin, parce qu’elles ont inspiré tout au long du Moyen-Age les auteurs sur la nature. Augustin aimait beaucoup le monde tel qu’il se présente à nous ; il savait jouir de ce qu’il appelait ‘certains espaces larges et magnifiques de la ville ou de la campagne’, où la beauté vous frappe avec éclat lorsque vous les montrez à un étranger. Mais la création contient également d’innombrables messages ‘moraux’, autant d’occasions pour un observateur pieux et attentif pour réfléchir sur son âme et sa tâche sur Terre. Coup après coup, Augustin souligne cet aspect lorsqu’il parle des phénomènes naturels. Chaque fois, il nous incite à chercher l’invisible derrière le visible, l’éternel derrière le temporel, etc. Ainsi l’harmonie que nous montre la création nous indique la paix qui doit régner entre les hommes. Chaque créature, pris séparément, apparait, pour celui qui veut le voir comme un exemple (négatif ou positif) pour l’homme. Ceci s’applique notamment pour le comportement des animaux, par exemple. Et ce qui concerne la Terre comme un tout, ne négligez pas les creux du paysage, car c’est là que jaillissent les sources.
Hugues de Saint Victor
Hugues de Saint Victor
En France, c’est lors de la Renaissance intellectuelle du XIIe siècle que les centres d’étude scolaires se multiplient (école cathédrale, école d’Abélard, école du Petit-Pont pour Paris, Chartres, Laon…) et qu’une véritable effervescence intellectuelle fait de notre pays un pôle d’attraction. Ainsi, de nombreux étudiants en provenance d’Allemagne, d’Italie, d’Angleterre, d’Ecosse et du Nord de l’Europe partent pour Paris pour y étudier avant tout la dialectique et la théologie.
Hugues de Saint Victor (1096-1141) est d’origine saxonne (ou flamande ?). Vers 1127, il entre chez les chanoines réguliers de Saint-Victor peu après la fondation de ce monastère installé à la lisière de Paris.
Les Victorins se distinguent dès l’origine par la haute place qu’ils donnent à la vie intellectuelle. Les chanoines de cette abbaye ont un regard positif sur le savoir, d’où l’importance qu’ils accordent à leur bibliothèque.
Les maîtres principaux qui ont influencé Hugues sont : Raban Maur (lui-même disciple du conseiller de Charlemagne, l’irlandais Alcuin), Bède le Vénérable, Yves de Chartres et Jean Scot Erigène et quelques autres, peut-être-même Denys l’Aréopagite dont il commente La Hiérarchie céleste.
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Abbaye de Saint Victor à Paris en 1655.
- D’une curiosité intellectuelle insatiable, Hugues conseille à ses disciples de tout apprendre car, dit-il, rien n’est inutile. Lui-même est le premier à mettre en pratique le conseil qu’il donne aux autres. Une partie notable de ses écrits est consacrée aux arts libéraux, aux sciences et à la philosophie, dont il traite en particulier dans un manuel d’introduction aux études profanes et sacrées, demeuré célèbre, le Didascalicon.
Ses contemporains le considèrent comme le plus grand théologien de leur temps et lui donnent le titre glorieux de « nouvel Augustin ». Il influence les Franciscains d’Oxford (Grosseteste, Roger Bacon, etc.) dont l’influence sur le peintre Roger Campin n’est plus à démontrer et Nicolas de Cues s’en inspire.
À la question de savoir s’il faut admirer ou mépriser le monde, Hugues de Saint Victor répond qu’on doit aimer le monde, mais à condition de ne pas oublier qu’il faut l’aimer en vue de Dieu, comme un présent de Dieu, et non pour lui-même.
Pour atteindre cette sagesse, l’homme doit considérer son existence comme celle celui d’un pèlerin qui se détache sans cesse de l’endroit où il réside, métaphore très fertile qu’on retrouvera chez les peintres flamands Bosch et Patinier. « Le monde entier est un exil pour ceux qui philosophent », souligne Hugues.
Maître Hugues pose l’exigence d’un dépassement de la dilectio (amour jaloux et possessif de Dieu) pour la condilectio (amour accueillant et ouvert au partage). Il prône l’idée d’un amour tout agapique tourné vers les autres, et non centré sur soi-même, un amour tourné vers le prochain, l’amour de Dieu augmentant avec l’amour du prochain. C’est tout simplement l’idée de charité chrétienne et de solidarité fraternelle qui est ainsi exprimée.
Hugues énumère cinq exercices spirituels : la lecture, la méditation, la prière, l’action, la contemplation. La première donne la compréhension ; la seconde fournit une réflexion ; la troisième demande, la quatrième cherche et la cinquième trouve. Ces exercices ont pour but d’atteindre la source de la vérité et de la charité et là, l’âme de l’homme est toute « transformée en flamme d’amour », reposant entre les mains de Dieu dans « une plénitude à la fois de connaissance et d’amour ».
Pour le sujet qui nous intéresse ici, c’est surtout sa vision optimiste de l’homme et de la création qui se différencie des clichés que nous retenons du pessimisme médiéval. Car pour lui, la création est un don de Dieu et le chemin vers Dieu passe donc tout autant par la lecture du livre de la nature que par la Bible.
Ainsi, pour lui, l’image que nous en percevons n’est d’abord que révélation ou dévoilement de la Puissance divine, perçue « à travers la longueur, la largeur, la profondeur de l’espace », « à travers la masse des montagnes, la longueur des fleuves, l’étendue des champs, la hauteur du ciel, la profondeur de l’abîme ».
Ainsi, le peintre, lorsqu’il excelle dans la représentation de l’univers physique ne fait qu’augmenter sa capacité à dévoiler la puissance du créateur !
Dévoilement également de la Sagesse à travers la beauté. Pour Hugues, « tout l’univers sensible est un grand livre tracé par le doigt de Dieu », c’est-à-dire créé par la vertu divine et
chaque créature est comme une figure, non pas produit du désir humain, mais fruit du vouloir divin chargé de manifester la Sagesse invisible de Dieu (…) Tout comme un illettré regarde les signes d’un livre ouvert sans connaître les lettres, un homme stupide et bestial ‘qui ne comprend pas les choses qui sont de Dieu’, ne voit dans les créatures que la forme extérieure, mais n’en comprend pas le sens intérieur.
Pour s’élever, Hugues propose à ses disciples de Saint-Victor, à tous ceux capables de « contempler sans relâche », de poser « un regard spirituel » sur le monde. Pour son disciple, Richard de Saint-Victor, la Bible et le grand livre de la nature {« rendent le même son et s’harmonisent pour dire les merveilles d’un monde secret. »}
Denys le Chartreux, clé pour comprendre Van Eyck
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Le théologien Denys le Chartreux (Van Rykel).
Deux siècles après Hugues de Saint-Victor, c’est une même flamme qui anime le théologien Denys le Chartreux (1401-1471), originaire du Limbourg belge. Sous le titre La beauté du monde : ordo et varietas, Bakker lui consacre tout un chapitre de son livre. Et vous allez comprendre pourquoi.
Avant d’entrer chez les Chartreux de Roermond aux Pays-Bas, Denys, est formé dans l’esprit des Frères de la vie commune à l’école de Zwolle aux Pays-Bas et achève sa formation à l’Université de Cologne.
Avec Jean Gerson (1363-1429) et Nicolas de Cues (1402-1464), et ce malgré un style beaucoup plus bavard et parfois confus, Denys le Chartreux compta au nombre des auteurs les plus lus, les plus copiés puis les plus édités, quand l’imprimerie en vint à supplanter le laborieux travail des moines copistes. D’ailleurs, le premier livre publié en Flandres, ne fut autre que le Miroir de l’âme pècheresse de Denys le Chartreux, imprimé en 1473 par l’ami d’Erasme de Rotterdam, Dirk Martens.
Au monastère de Roermond au Pays-bas, Denys écrit 150 œuvres dont des commentaires sur la Bible et 900 sermons. Après en avoir lu un, le pape Eugène IV, qui vient d’ordonner à Brunelleschi de parachever la coupole du dôme de Florence, exulta : « L’Eglise mère se réjouit d’avoir pareil fils ! ».
En tant que savant, théologien et conseiller, Denys était très influent. « Nombre de gentilshommes, de clercs et de bourgeois viennent le consulter dans sa cellule à Ruremonde où il ne cesse de résoudre doutes, difficultés et cas de conscience. (…) Il se trouve en relations fréquentes avec la maison de Bourgogne et sert de conseiller à Philippe le Bon », confirme l’historien néerlandais Huizinga dans son Déclin du Moyen-âge.
Selon Bakker, ayant rédigé une série d’œuvres d’orientation spirituelle, Denys, remplit le rôle de confesseur et de guide spirituel du souverain chrétien Philippe le Bon , duc de Bourgogne, et par la suite, de celui de sa veuve.
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Denys le Chartreux, chaire de la Cathédrale de Laon.
Denys le Chartreux est un ami, admirateur et collaborateur du cardinal Nicolas de Cues.
Ensemble, ils suivent à Cologne les cours du théologien flamand Heymeric van de Velde (De Campo) qui les initie à la théologie mystique du moine platonicien syrien connu sous le nom du Pseudo-Denys l’Aréopagite et à l’œuvre de Raymond Lulle et d’Albert le Grand.
Lorsqu’en 1432, Nicolas De Cues décline la chaire de Théologie que lui offre l’Université de Louvain, c’est De Campo qui, à sa demande, accepte cette fonction.
Politiquement, de 1451 à 1452, c’est Denys le Chartreux que choisit Nicolas de Cues, alors légat apostolique, pour l’accompagner durant plusieurs mois lors de sa tournée en pays rhénan et mosellan pour y faire appliquer, à la demande du pape, le renouveau spirituel qu’il promeut.
Bakker note que Denys a une prédilection pour la musique. Il recopie et illumine de sa main des partitions et donne des instructions sur la meilleure interprétation possible des psaumes. Sa préférence va à des psaumes qui font l’éloge de Dieu. Et pour faire l’éloge du créateur, Denys trouve des images et des paroles qu’on verra rebondir dans l’imagination des peintres de l’époque.
Cependant, pour Denys, la beauté de Dieu signifie quelque chose de plus profond qu’une simple attractivité visuelle. « Pour toi (seigneur), ‘être’ équivaut à ‘être beau’ ». Rappelons que la vue, dans la philosophie chrétienne, est le sens primordial et celui qui résume tous les autres.
Dans les psaumes de Denys, deux notions prévalent. D’abord, celle de l’ordre et de la régularité. On les retrouve dans les corps célestes qui déterminent le rythme des jours et des années. Mais la Terre elle-même obéit à un ordre divin. Et là Denys cite le Livre de la Sagesse de Salomon (11,20) affirmant : « Tu as tout ordonné avec mesure, nombre et poids ».
Ensuite, il y a l’idée de multiplicité et de diversité. Sur les phénomènes climatiques, c’est-à-dire des phénomènes purement « physiques », Denys affirme par exemple,
Dans le ciel, seigneur, tu génères des effets multiples de pression et de souffle, tels que des nuages, des vents, des pluies (…) et différents phénomènes : des comètes, des couronnes lumineuses, des vortex, des étoiles tombantes (…), du givre et de la brume, de la grêle, de la neige, l’arc en ciel et le dragon volant.
Pour Denys, tout cela n’a pas été créé pour rien mais pour pénétrer l’homme de la réalité divine, sa grandeur infinie, son omnipuissance et son amour pour l’homme.
Faites en sorte seigneur, écrit-il, que dans les effets de votre laboriosité universelle, nous vous percevions et que par l’amour dont elle témoigne, nous nous enflammions et que nous nous éveillions à honorer votre grandeur.
Sur Dieu et le beau, Denys écrit un véritable traité d’esthétique théologique sous le titre De Venustate Mundi et pulchritudine Dei (De l’attractivité du monde et de la beauté de Dieu).
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Retable de Gent (Belgique) ou l’Agneau mystique, peint par Jan Van Eyck.
La cour de Philippe le Bon, duc de Bourgogne. Miniature de Rogier Van der Weyden.
En lisant ce qui suit, c’est tout de suite le retable de Gand, l’Agneau mystique, ce grand polyptyque peint par Jan Van Eyck qui nous vient à l’esprit.
Sachant que ce peintre était au service (peintre et ambassadeur) du même Philippe le Bon, duc de Bourgogne, dont Denys le Chartreux fut le confesseur et guide spirituel, on est en droit de croire que ce texte s’est imposé dans l’esprit du peintre dans l’élaboration de son œuvre.
Denys le Chartreux :
De même que toute créature participe à l’être de Dieu et à sa bonté, de même le Créateur lui communique aussi quelque chose de sa beauté divine, éternelle, incréée, par quoi elle est en partie rendue semblable à son Créateur et participe quelque peu à sa beauté. Autant une chose reçoit l’être, autant elle reçoit le bon et le beau. Il existe donc une beauté incréée qui est la beauté et le beau par essence : Dieu.
Autre est la beauté créée : le beau par participation. De même que toute créature est appelée être dans la mesure où elle participe à l’être divin et lui est assimilée par une certaine imitation, de même toute créature est dite belle dans la mesure où elle participe à la beauté divine et lui est rendue conforme. De même que Dieu a fait toutes choses bonnes parce qu’il est bon par nature, de même il a fait toutes choses belles parce qu’il est essentiellement beau.
(…) Le fils unique de Dieu, vrai Dieu lui-même, a pris notre nature et est devenu notre frère. Par lui, notre nature a reçu une dignité de majesté indicible. Dieu a de plus orné les âmes des bienheureux qui sont dans la patrie céleste, de sa lumière et de sa gloire, et les a élevés à la vision béatifique, immédiate, claire et bienheureuse de sa Divinité toute pure. En contemplant la beauté incréée et infinie de l’essence divine, elles sont transformées à son image d’une façon surnaturelle et ineffable. Elles sont remplies et débordent de cette participation, de cette communion de bonté, lumière et beauté divines, au point d’être entièrement ravies en lui, configurées à lui, absorbées en lui. Elles atteignent ainsi une beauté telle, que les splendeurs du monde entier ne sauraient être comparées à la beauté de la plus petite d’entre elles.
Retour au peintre
Ce dernier paragraphe évoque immédiatement la partie supérieure du polyptyque de Jan Van Eyck à Gent.
On a du mal à mesurer l’effet que ce tableau a pu susciter chez les croyants : ils y voyaient non seulement Adam et Eve, élevés au même niveau que Dieu, la Vierge et Saint-Jean Baptiste, mais y découvraient, alors que moins d’un pour cent de la population européenne ne savaient lire et écrire, l’image d’une ravissante jeune femme lisant la Bible. Son nom ? Marie, mère de Jésus !
La partie inférieure de la même œuvre met en scène un autre évènement majeur : la réunification, suite aux différents conciles œcuméniques, de tous les chrétiens, qu’ils soient d’Occident ou d’Orient et jusque là divisés par des querelles subalternes, autour de la quintessence de la foi chrétienne : le sacrifice du Fils de Dieu pour libérer l’homme du péché originel.
Sont regroupés en chœurs autour de l’évènement tout ce qui comptaient dans l’univers : les trois papes, les philosophes, les poètes (Virgile), les martyrs, les ermites, les prophètes, les justes juges, les chevaliers chrétiens, les saints et les vierges.
Le tout présenté dans un paysage transformé par un véritable « Printemps » chrétien. Van Eyck n’hésite pas à représenter, avec moult détails de toute la splendeur de leur microcosme, une bonne cinquantaine d’espèces végétales au moment où elles offrent leurs plus belles fleurs et feuilles.
Littéralement, cela fait apparaître la richesse de la création dans toute sa variété; allégoriquement, cela représente le créateur comme sève de la vie; moralement, c’est le sacrifice du fils de Dieu qui redonnera vie à l’église des chrétiens; et enfin, anagogiquement, cela nous rappelle que nous devons tendre à nous unir au créateur, source de toute vie, bien et sagesse.
Une fois de plus, ce n’est que chez Denys le Chartreux, dans le passage de conclusion de son {Venestate Mundi et pulchritudine Dei} que l’on trouve un éloge aussi passionné de la beauté du monde visible, y compris une référence au fameux {« vert foncé des prés »} si typique de Van Eyck :
{Démarrons par le plus bas, les éléments de la terre. Dans quelles longueur et largeur immensurables elle s’étend loin devant nous ; comment sa surface est ornée d’innombrables espèces et sortes d’individus de choses merveilleuses. Regardez les lis et les roses et autres fleurs de belles couleurs émettant leurs odeurs adorables, les herbes guérissantes qui poussent sur le vert foncé des prés et à l’ombre des forêts, la splendeur des arbres et des champs luxuriants, des hauteurs de montagnes, de la fraicheur des arbres, des étangs, des ruisseaux et des rivières s’étalant jusqu’à la mer au lointain ! A quel point Il doit être beau en lui-même, Celui qui a tout créé ! Regardez et admirez la multitude d’animaux, comment ils brillent dans la variété de leurs couleurs ! Aux poissons et oiseaux se réjouit l’œil et s’adresse notre éloge du Créateur. Dans quels beauté et lustre se drapent les grands animaux, le cheval, l’unicorne, le chameau, le cerf, le saumon et le brochet, le phénix, le paon et l’épervier. Qu’Il est élevé, celui qui a fait tout cela !}
Avec ce que nous venons de lire et de dire, le spectateur peut enfin savourer en pleine confiance et sans modération cette beauté, car il ne s’agit de rien d’autre que la prégustation de la sagesse divine !
Avec ce que nous venons de lire et de dire, le spectateur peut savourer en pleine confiance cette beauté, car il ne s’agit de rien d’autre que la prégustation de la sagesse divine !
Bibliographie :
- Boudewijn Bakker, Landschap en Wereldbeeld. Van Van Eyck tot Rembrandt, Thoth, 2004 ;
- Patrice Sicard, Hugues de Saint-Victor et son école, Brepols, 1991.
- Denys le Chartreux, Vers la ressemblance, textes réunis et présentés par Christophe Bagonneau, Parole et Silence, 2003.
Le mont des oliviers
« Le Mont des Oliviers », Karel Vereycken. Peinture à l’œuf, tempera, huile et glacis. D’après une gravure de Rembrandt. Cadre ancien.