Jörg Bölling offers a long, dense, learned, minutely detailed, meticulously documented, and highly original contribution to the vast literature on the contention between the German kingdom or empire (the regnum of the title) and the ecclesiastical authorities—largely but not exclusively the papacy (the sacerdotium of the title). It is not easy to find something new to say about this subject. Bölling’s strategy and methodology open opportunities for him to do so.
First, Bölling observes that with only a few exceptions previous work tends to treat the era of the Investiture Controversy as if the kingdom/empire and the church were somehow single, stable entities about which broad generalization is both possible and instructive. On the contrary, Bölling insists, conditions on the ground varied tremendously. Accordingly, he focuses on Saxony, a very large area in the eleventh century. Saxony had been the Königslandschaft (royal landscape) of the Saxon, or Ottonian, dynasty of German rulers (919–1024). The Salian dynasty, hailing from Franconia, came to the throne with Conrad II in 1024 and struggled mightily with Saxony. This contentious context offers possibilities for asking how the church in Saxony related to the papacy and to the Salians.
Second, Bölling focuses on churches that were under the patronage of Saint Peter. Peter’s obvious Roman and papal associations make churches dedicated to him excellent vantage points for viewing relations between regnum and sacerdotium. Bölling devotes primary attention to Saxony’s cathedral churches: Bremen, Minden, Osnabrück, and Naumberg-Zeitz. In these churches he looks at crypts and altars to weigh Petrine patronage against other local saintly intercessors. Bölling also examines canonical foundations, oratories, and monastic churches, when sources permit him to do so. Where sources are concerned, Bölling makes sensitive use of historiography—contemporary or near-contemporary narratives, but he also exploits hagiography and liturgy. Bölling has an unusually strong command of liturgical sources and of how to make use of them in a wider historical discussion. But his written sources do not stop with the three featured in the book’s subtitle. Bölling draws on charters and diplomas (especially their rhetorical arengae), sermons, passionals, and pilgrim narratives. What is mote, he brings in visual evidence where possible—for instance, depictions of typical Petrine symbols such as swords or keys.
Bölling has degrees in both theology and history. This training shows throughout the book. One example will suffice to illustrate the author’s approach. Saints, he says, have two bodies, an earthly, historical one and a glorified heavenly one. These bodies converge in a sense where the saint’s tomb is found or where his or her relics are present. Saint Peter is unusual in several respects. He has a heavenly body, of course. In Rome, he has a tomb at St. Peter’s but his skull, along with Paul’s, was believed to be kept in the pope’s chapel at the Lateran. In addition, there were widely distributed relics: filings from Peter’s chains and brandea—bits of cloth that had been placed near the saint’s tomb in order to absorb sanctity. Thus far Peter is only slightly more complex than many other saints. But Peter has an earthly vicar, a temporal representative: the pope. This made Peter unique and gave any appeal or reference to him a special force. In a way, then, Peter had three bodies and they constituted both a potent spiritual reality and an increasingly powerful and ubiquitous institution. No other ecclesiastical authorities or secular rulers had comparable resources.
Such authorities were not without resources, however. Pagan Saxony had been turned into a “sacred landscape” in Carolingian times as the area was converted and equipped with churches possessing the relics of various saints. At Bremen, for example, the memory of Willehad, Anskar, and Rimbert remained significant and contributed to a story of episcopal and papal foundation of the see—easing the Carolingian role to one side. At Minden, Saint Gorgonius retained significance and references, or appeals, to him complicated the situation. At Osnabrück, Bishop Benno II had a particular devotion to Clement of Rome and Benno’s vita was sympathetic to the Salians. What Bölling shows is that Saxony was a sacred and a contested landscape. Its saintly patrons and their devotees sometimes changed sides. Bölling opens up a field that might be labeled “sanctoral politics.” His book does not leave its readers with a single, clear thesis or with a set of concrete takeaways. They have to try very hard to gain some level of control over his details.
