In early Christianity it was established that every church should have a light burning on the altar at all times. In this unique study, Eternal light and earthly concerns, looks at the material and social consequences of maintaining these ‘eternal’ lights. It investigates how the cost of lighting was met across western Europe throughout the whole of the Middle Ages, revealing the social organisation that was built up around maintaining the lights in the belief that burning them reduced the time spent in Purgatory. When that belief collapsed in the Reformation the eternal lights were summarily extinguished. The history of the lights thus offers not only a new account of change in medieval Europe, but also a sustained examination of the relationship between materiality and belief.

"Examines the chronology of the Church’s acquisition of wealth, and particularly of landed property, as well as the distribution of its income, in the period between the conversion of Constantine and the eighth century"-- Provided by publisher.

An examination of coined money and its significance to rulers, aristocrats and peasants in early medieval Europe Between the end of the Roman Empire in the fifth century and the economic transformations of the twelfth, coined money in western Europe was scarce and high in value, difficult for the majority of the population to make use of. And yet, as Rory Naismith shows in this illuminating study, coined money was made and used throughout early medieval Europe. It was, he argues, a powerful tool for articulating people’s place in economic and social structures and an important gauge for levels of economic complexity. Working from the premise that using coined money carried special significance when there was less of it around, Naismith uses detailed case studies from the Mediterranean and northern Europe to propose a new reading of early medieval money as a point of contact between economic, social, and institutional history. Naismith examines structural issues, including the mining and circulation of metal and the use of bullion and other commodities as money, and then offers a chronological account of monetary development, discussing the post-Roman period of gold coinage, the rise of the silver penny in the seventh century and the reconfiguration of elite power in relation to coinage in the tenth and eleventh centuries. In the process, he counters the conventional view of early medieval currency as the domain only of elite gift-givers and intrepid long-distance traders. Even when there were few coins in circulation, Naismith argues, the ways they were used—to give gifts, to pay rents, to spend at markets—have much to tell us.

What was Christianity like for ordinary people between the turn of the millennium and the coming of the Black Death? What changed and what continued, in their experiences, habits, feelings, hopes, and fears? How did they know themselves to be Christians, and indeed to be good Christians? This book answers those questions through a focus on one specific region — southern France — across a particularly fraught period of history, one beset by the changes wrought by the Gregorian reforms, the spectre of heresy, the violence of crusade, the coming of inquisition, and the pastoral revolution associated with the Fourth Lateran Council (1215). Using an array of different historical documents, John H. Arnold explores the material contexts of Christian worship from the eleventh through to the fourteenth centuries, the shifting episcopal expectations of the ordinary laity, the changes wrought through wider socioeconomic developments, and periods of sharp inflection brought by the Albigensian crusade and its aftermath. Throughout, the book explores the complex spectrum of lay piety, finding enthusiasms and doubts, faith and scepticism, agency and negotiation. It explores not just developments in the content of faith for the laity but the very dynamics of belief as a lived experience. We are shown how across these key centuries Christianity developed in its external practices, but also via inculcating a more interiorized and affective mode of belief; and thus, it is argued, it can be said to have become truly a 'religion' — a structured, demanding, and rewarding faith — for the many and not just the few.

Charlemagne and Rome is a wide-ranging exploration of cultural politics in the age of Charlemagne. It focuses on a remarkable inscription commemorating Pope Hadrian I who died in Rome at Christmas 795. Commissioned by Charlemagne, composed by Alcuin of York, and cut from black stone quarried close to the king's new capital at Aachen in the heart of the Frankish kingdom, it was carried to Rome and set over the tomb of the pope in the south transept of St Peter's basilica not long before Charlemagne's imperial coronation in the basilica on Christmas Day 800. A masterpiece of Carolingian art, Hadrian's epitaph was also a manifesto of empire demanding perpetual commemoration for the king amid St Peter's cult. In script, stone, and verse, it proclaimed Frankish mastery of the art and power of the written word, and claimed the cultural inheritance of imperial and papal Rome, recast for a contemporary, early medieval audience. Pope Hadrian's epitaph was treasured through time and was one of only a few decorative objects translated from the late antique basilica of St Peter's into the new structure, the construction of which dominated and defined the early modern Renaissance. Understood then as precious evidence of the antiquity of imperial affection for the papacy, Charlemagne's epitaph for Pope Hadrian I was preserved as the old basilica was destroyed and carefully redisplayed in the portico of the new church, where it can be seen today. Using a very wide range of sources and methods, from art history, epigraphy, palaeography, geology, archaeology, and architectural history, as well as close reading of contemporary texts in prose and verse, this book presents a detailed 'object biography', contextualising Hadrian's epitaph in its historical and physical setting at St Peter's over eight hundred years, from its creation in the late eighth century during the Carolingian Renaissance through to the early modern Renaissance of Bramante, Michelangelo, and Maderno.

Listen to My heart in the quiet of your heart . . . More. Life is full to overflowing, but we crave an illusive more. Via social networking, airwaves, and TV, our culture tells us to strive for more stuff, more activities, more adventure--you name it. Yet we are often left feeling unfulfilled and wanting. Empty, even. With so many demands for our attention, it is difficult to quiet our minds long enough to hear the still, small voice of our loving Father, and to listen to the One who desires to bring us so much more than the noise of everyday life. Judy Gordon Morrow discovered the more when her world was turned upside down and she knelt before God to seek Him and ask for His help. More than a decade ago, in tear-stained notebooks, she began to pen God's responses to her desperate prayers. Now, in The Listening Heart, Judy invites you to spend a year hearing from the God Who Speaks--the God who wants to speak to you. Each daily devotion echoes the Father's love and care for you, offering hope, comfort, encouragement, and more--a rich closeness with God that will satisfy the longings of your heart.

"A series which is a model of its kind" Edmund King Considers the clerical friends of Ermengarde of Brittany, showing how these men enabled Ermengarde to fulfil both her duty and her desire to live an intensely pious life. Explores the ways in which grief was represented in the Histoire de Guillaume le Maréchal. Two thirteenth-century Evesham forgeries demonstrate that early thirteenth-century people, even so-called experts at the papal chancery, seem to have been ignorant of the physical form taken by early papal bulls. Explores the world of the scribes who composed Exon Domesday, demonstrating their working methods as well as giving us further insights into the composition of Great Domesday, completed by 1088. Looks at the involvement of Bernard, abbot of Le Mont Saint-Michel, 1131-49, in the development of the abbey in peril of the sea. Examines how the introduction of musical notation into Normandy around the millennium made it possible for people to understand melodies without aid from a master. Offers insights into the career of Ranulf Flambard, the most "infamous tax collector" of the late eleventh century in England. Investigates the annals of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle for the years 1062 to 1066, showing that they were written largely in retrospect after the events of 1066 had played out. Looks at the case for the evidence relating to the foundation of Kirkstead Abbey, Lincolnshire. Finally, presents evidence for spying and espionage in the Anglo-Norman World.