Part 1 can be found here.
Alcuin & the Carolingian Renaissance
Something should be said here on the impact Alcuin had on the Carolingian renaissance, especially the connection between Alcuin’s political theology and his philosophy of education. For Alcuin, true education was intimately linked to good political theology, precisely because he thought the telos of education was to produce not just virtuous citizens, but preeminently to produce just and virtuous kings and queens. Classical education, according to Alcuin, ought to make men and women worthy of kingship and regency. And even if only one man could be the actual king, all people should still be educated. Why? Because all people are made in the image of God and therefore they should be taught to rule, but rule specifically over themselves. In other words, you may not be king over an entire empire reaching from the Atlantic to the Adriatic – but you still need to have the ability to rule your own passions, your own life, and thisis what the best of classical Christian education aimed at.
This kind of blending of political theology with an educational theology was no mere abstract ideal, for Alcuin. Growing up in Northumbria, there would have been the constant anxiety of social breakdown as one British kingdom tried to take over another British kingdom. Add to that the increased terror of Viking raiders. In 793, a brutal Viking attack from the sea on the coastal town of Lindisfarne shook not only all of Britain but also all of Europe; an event Alcuin wrote about. He’d in fact write a poem about the kings and citizens of York which would serve as a justification for noble rulers protecting the citizenry against godless hordes of invading peoples who literally raped and pillaged. It’s no coincidence that this was also the time that the story of Beowulf was finally being written down – a tale about the need for fearless and godly kings in the face of evil. For this reason, Alcuin argued that the qualities of a good king were the cardinal virtues of prudence, courage, justice, and temperance and that a proper king needed to not only embody these virtues, but more importantly to disseminate them among his people. This was what made society to flourish, not flounder.
And so Alcuin, following his predecessor the Venerable Bede, promoted Biblical heroes like David, Solomon, and Josiah as models for men like Charlamagne. But they were also cautionary tales. Alcuin was constantly wanting to remind his students, Charlamagne most of all, that above all human kingship came the ultimate kingship and ultimate judgment of Jesus Christ. He was the focus, the telos of both king and country. And therefore Charles’ penultimate kingship was one which helped lead all of society toward the ultimate telos of submission to the King of kings.
One mustn’t come away thinking that this meant for Alcuin a justification for enforced conversion. When Charlamagne made it an edict that any Saxon who refused to get baptized must be killed, it was Alcuin who – applying the church fathers – quickly spoke to Charles and reminded him that true faith was a matter of conscience. He argued that forced baptism is pointless since true faith is an act of the will, and thus while you can force a person to be baptized, you cannot force them to believe, which is always essential for salvation. Amazingly, his argument seems to have worked: Charlemagne changed the law and made refusal to accept baptism a non-capital offense.
For Alcuin, sharper than the king’s sword was the sword of God’s living and active word and if you could get a whole generation to grow up knowing the Scriptures then you could reach and change the hearts of every citizen. Thus, Alcuin impressed upon Charlamagne to organize schools in every parish for any child in his kingdom. “Let the priests hold schools in the towns and villages, and if any of the faithful wish to entrust their children to them for the learning of letters, let them not refuse to receive and teach such children. And let them exact no price from the children for their teaching, nor receive anything from them, save what their parents may offer voluntarily and from affection.”
Interestingly, the Latin phrase “Vox populi, vox Dei” (the voice of the people is the voice of God) finds its first iteration with Alcuin of York. Because of this, a few books on the life of Alcuin claim that he used it to remind Charlamagne that he was not to be a tyrant, crafting Alcuin in the mold of a kind of proto-medieval republican. But this is certainly not right. Alcuin does use the phrase, specifically in a letter written to Charles upon his being crowned by Pope Leo III Roman Emperor in the year 800. Here’s what he writes: “And those people should not be listened to who keep saying ‘the voice of the people is the voice of God’, since the riotousness of the crowd is always very close to madness.”
In other words, now that you’re the Holy Roman emperor know that you will be the recipient of a flood of loud chants from the hoi polloi as well as those in your inner circle, and they willeither be praising you (which isn’t good for you) or condemning you (which can be debilitating). No, rather, the voice of God isn’t to be found in the voice of the people but in His Book, the Bible, which, if you give yourself to continually pursuing wisdom and virtue in those pages of sacred Scripture, you will be much better suited to lead well.
Here’s Alcuin writing to Charlemagne on the goodness of books and reading: “One of God’s greatest gifts is indeed the gift of books, which sing the course of things and of all times, and at the instruction of God preserve the origins of the world, and have foretold holy Christ to the centuries; books in which the sure knowledge of worshiping God, which is the true way, life, and salvation, is itself given to man. Whoever wishes with a pure heart to live eternally with Christ in the citadel of heaven must read and remember books and especially that Book of books.”
The Autumn of Life
Near the end of his life, Alcuin was sent by Charles to Tours, the famous monastery founded by St. Martin. There Alcuin would spend the autumn of his life still teaching and writing but also, increasingly longing for the rest of heaven. He wrote a few times to Charlamagne asking if he could retire. Charlamagne essentially said no but did allow him to keep his tutoring to a small circle of students. Charles often wrote asking if Alcuin could come and visit him again at his court in Aachen – he loved his teacher – but by this time, Alcuin had to repeatedly apologize and write back that on account of his health he couldn’t make the trip.
The monastery at Tours was already famous across Europe for its vineyard there, which St. Martin developed with incredible sophistication. The land is happily situated on the fertile banks of the Loire River, where legend has it the first Chenin Noir and Chenin Blanc wines were developed. It’s not a stretch to imagine Alcuin, at the end of his career, looking over a long and faithful time of teaching, saving books, creating a new Latin Script, starting schools all over Europe, and guiding the leadership of one of the greatest Christian kings of all Western civilization, now drinking his wine and thanking God for His good gifts. Alcuin died at the age of 69 in the year 804.