The great empire ruled over by Charlemagne fell to pieces after his death. A time of great confusion followed, which was made worse by the frequent invasions of the Normans and the Danes. Their ravages extended along the whole Atlantic coast of Europe, as far south as Spain. Some entered the Mediterranean and raided the coast of Italy. In the south, Europe also suffered from the invasions of the Saracens who occupied southern Spain, besides raiding Italy. From the east came the Hungarians, who penetrated up the Danube valley, devastating Moravia and Bavaria and reaching even further west. Terror, confusion, destruction and misery followed. No large towns were left intact. For protection, fortified centers were established, and the powerful lords in these troublous times became petty rulers in their own domains. Though they acknowledged the King or the Emperor as their sovereign, they were largely independent.
Through these sad and troublous times, which lasted till the early years of the eleventh century, it is difficult to trace the evidences of vital Christianity. The Papacy was growing in power and influence, for its prestige fed upon the chaotic conditions which then existed. What Christian light remained was to be found in individuals who were going against the general current in a greater or lesser degree.
As to the Eastern Church, there is little to be said; it had become an idolatrous system. The rift between it and the See of Rome was ever widening until, in 1056, the Pope of Rome excommunicated and anathematized the patriarch of Constantinople, and the breach between the eastern and western halves of the professing Church became complete and final.
This period witnessed a gradual increase of papal pretensions. Since Constantine the popes had been elected by the priests, nobles and people of Rome, the election being subject to the final consent of the Emperor. During the reign of the weak emperors who followed Charlemagne, an attempt was made to ignore the imperial sanction. On the other hand, the papal confirmation was sought by Charles the Bald for his succession to the empire, thus recognizing the ascendancy of the Pope. After this followed a most vicious period in the history of the Papacy. The election of the popes was now in the hands of wicked leaders and dissolute people who strove against one another for their candidates to the papal chair who were as evil as themselves. The history of the popes in this period is so shameful and obscene that it is amazing that the Papacy did not lose forever the respect of mankind. The German Emperor, Otto III, finally intervened to restore some measure of decency and decorum.
While the papal office was thus weltering in its own shame, the confusion among the peoples of Europe greatly advanced the power of the bishops, many of whom became feudal lords, possessing armed retainers and often leading their soldiers into battle. The bishops had in a large measure usurped the rights of the civil courts by means of their ecclesiastical courts, while within his own domain the bishop combined both secular and ecclesiastical authority. The ninth century has been called “the age of bishops.” At a council of bishops, assembled at Troyes in 878, it was decreed “that the powers of the world should treat the bishops with every sort of respect and that no one should presume to sit down in their presence unless by their command.”
While the primacy of the Roman See had long been recognized and it had often been appealed to to settle disputes, while kings and emperors had sought its sanction and courted its favor, its overriding authority in the Church had not yet been generally recognized, and during the shameful period referred to its prestige suffered. In the matter of image worship, both councils and individuals disputed the papal views. Arnulph of Orleans, who presided over a council held at Rheims in the tenth century, said, “O deplorable Rome, who in the days of our forefathers produced so many burning and shining lights, thou hast brought forth in our times only dismal darkness worthy of the detestation of posterity. What shall we do, or what counsels shall we take? The gospel tells us of a barren fig tree and of the divine patience exercised toward it. Let us bear with our primates as long as we can, and in the meantime seek for spiritual food where it is to be found.
“Certainly there are some in this holy assembly who can testify that in Belgium and Germany there may be found real pastors and eminent men in religion. ... What think you reverend fathers of this man, the Pope, placed on a lofty throne, shining in purple and gold? Whom do you account him? If destitute of love and puffed up with pride of knowledge only, he is Antichrist sitting in the temple of God.”
This prelate lamented that the kings of the earth were committing fornication with the Roman harlot and giving their power to support her grandeur.
From this we are able to infer that even among those who held high office in the Church were men who were enlightened enough to distinguish the abominations that had come into the Church but felt themselves powerless to do anything else than protest. From the testimony of Arnulph and the writings of various individuals we gather that even in this barren period there were men who held the truth of the gospel.
The Paulicians had been destroyed and their remnants scattered by the middle of the ninth century, but there is reason to believe that some of these persecuted individuals carried the Word to the lands of their exile. But ere their light had been extinguished, we behold another arising in the valleys of Piedmont. God raised up a luminary in the person of Claudius, Bishop of Turin. Claudius, who was of Spanish birth, has been called the first of the reformers. He was appointed Bishop of Turin in 817. He was deeply versed in Scripture and contended earnestly for the faith. He opposed the errors of Rome, condemned idolatry and exposed the folly of prayers for the dead. The light he possessed, judging from the fragments of his writings that have survived the ages, is truly remarkable for a time of such darkness. He preached diligently and expounded the Scriptures copiously. While he did not suffer as a martyr, he did not escape persecution, for he says, “In defending this truth, I am become a reproach to my neighbors; those who see me scoff at me and point at me to one another. But the Father of mercies and the God of all consolations has comforted me in my tribulations that I may be able to comfort others who are oppressed with sorrow and affliction. I rely on the protection of Him who has armed me with the armor of righteousness and of faith, the tried shield for my eternal salvation.” Romish writers have admitted that the valleys of Piedmont which belonged to his bishopric preserved his opinions in the ninth and tenth centuries. Whether the Vaudois of those parts originated through his teaching or were only strengthened by it we cannot say, but in those Piedmontese valleys the truth found a refuge in the darkest days of the Dark Ages.
Claudius was not the only light which shone in the ninth century, but he serves as an outstanding example of men whom God used to keep the torch of the testimony burning in days of darkness.
As to the mass of common people in this age of spiritual poverty, there is little to throw light on their religious condition. Ignorance and illiteracy were general. Bibles were, of course, rare and expensive and of use only to the learned few. The people generally were dependent on the oral teaching of the village priest. He was supposed to teach the people the Apostles’ Creed and possibly the Lord’s prayer beside other elements of the Christian faith. This, alas, was interlarded in many instances, no doubt, with the superstitions and idolatry of the times.
Alfred the Great deserves to be mentioned here. He was a truly Christian king, having been brought up in piety from childhood, and his greatness, which is universally acknowledged, stemmed from his Christianity. He was much concerned as to the low state of the Church in England in his time. He laments its condition in the following words: “So great was the decay that there were very few clergy on this side of the Humber who could understand their service books or translate a letter from Latin into English. ... Not many beyond the Humber ... so few that I cannot remember a single one south of the Thames when I came to the kingdom.”
He himself translated some religious books and some of the Psalms. He made wise laws founded on the divine law, and he quotes most of Exodus 20-23, as well as the epistle of the Church at Jerusalem in Acts 15. He also refers to the Lord’s words, “Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them” (Matt. 7:12), and adds, “He who observes this law needs no other book of laws.” Were wiser words ever uttered by a king? King Alfred was also a supporter of missionary enterprise.
Elfric, Archbishop of Canterbury, presided over a council in 1006 which ordered, among other things, that every parish priest should, on Sundays and holy days, explain to the people in the English tongue the Lord’s prayer, the Creed and the gospel for the day. Limited and mixed as these instructions were, some light doubtless found its way into dark hearts, and the knowledge of the God who created heaven and earth and of His Son who was crucified for us, as the Nicene Creed distinctly states, could be used by the Spirit of God, and doubtless was, to the eternal salvation of souls. When the full and accurate records of heaven are unfolded, it will doubtless be revealed that there was more for God even in those Dark Ages than the records of history would lead us to suppose.
Christianity continued to spread among the still pagan peoples. We read of Slavonic tribes receiving it, of the Russians likewise, and of its progress in the Scandinavian countries. In the tenth century Poland became a Christian country, and the Queen of Russia received baptism in Constantinople. By 987 Christianity was established in Russia under the aegis of the Greek Church, which has ever since been the national Church of Russia.
Doubtless there was much admixture in all this, and many merely changed their religion from paganism to an idolatrous form of Christianity. But God in His providence was over all. The instruments used in this work were often zealous men, true to the little light they had, and there is no doubt that God was pleased by their means to turn many to Himself. In this period kings and princes were often used in the ways of God to give a lead to their subjects, and frequently the Word found its entrance through the instrumentality of a converted princess who influenced her husband in favor of the gospel. In some instances, an outward change was brought about in the national religion by the decree of the ruler, and in some instances it was imposed by force. While true faith could not be produced by such means, it doubtless facilitated the spread of Christian teaching.
An illustration of the practical effects of the gospel in these days is afforded by the record left by Adam of Bremen. Writing in 1089, he says:
“Look at that very ferocious nation of the Danes. For a long time they have been accustomed in the praise of God to resound Halleluia. Look at the piratical people. They are now content with the fruits of their own country. Look at that horrid region formerly altogether inaccessible on account of idolatry; they now eagerly admit the preachers of the Word.”
The tenth century closed with a widespread fear that the year 1000 would usher in the Day of Judgment. It had long been the theme of false prophets, based on a misinterpretation of Revelation 20. Houses and lands were neglected, and as the year approached and concluded, panic spread over Christendom. The guilty consciences of men filled them with terror as they imagined the Day of Judgment had arrived and the end of all things had come.