The Hidden History of Women’s Ordination This page intentionally left blank The Hidden History of Women’s Ordination Female Clergy in the Medieval West gary macy 1 2007 3 Oxford University Press, Inc., publishes works that further Oxford University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education. Oxford New York Auckland Cape Town Dar es Salaam Hong Kong Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Nairobi New Delhi Shanghai Taipei Toronto With offices in Argentina Austria Brazil Chile Czech Republic France Greece Guatemala Hungary Italy Japan Poland Portugal Singapore South Korea Switzerland Thailand Turkey Ukraine Vietnam Copyright # 2008 by Oxford University Press, Inc. Published by Oxford University Press, Inc. 198 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016 www.oup.com Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of Oxford University Press. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Macy, Gary. The hidden history of women’s ordination : female clergy in the medieval West / Gary Macy. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-19-518970-4 1. Ordination of women—Europe—History—To 1500. 2. Ordination— History of doctrines—Middle Ages, 600–1500. I. Title. BV676.M33 2007 262'.1408209—dc22 2007004478 987654321 Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper Ad omnes clericas praeteritas praesentes futurasque This page intentionally left blank Preface The fact that women were ordained for the first twelve hundred years of Christianity will surprise many people. It surprised me when I first discovered it. Some of the people interested in learning about this deliberately hidden history will be scholars, specialists such as myself. Given the heated debates over the ordination of women in several Christian communities, however, the topic is likely to be of interest to many nonspecialists as well. These two audiences, however, have different needs. Scholars will quite rightly demand to know on what grounds I am making the claims and interpretations that the book offers. Such argumen- tation requires accurate bibliographic references to and quotations from both the original sources as well as the secondary sources cited in the book. I have provided these necessary proofs in the original language. They are relegated, however, to the notes. For most readers, this specialized information is inaccessible. Many don’t read the Latin of the primary sources, and the second- ary studies are often obscure texts difficult to obtain and decipher. For those readers I have tried to provide either a translation or para- phrase in the text of most of the Latin quotations cited. All the trans- lations are mine unless indicated otherwise. Whenever possible, I have also directed readers to English translations of the Latin docu- ments used in the study. When English translations are available for the secondary sources that I cite, I provide an initial reference to the source in its original language and then cite the English translation. viii preface This double referencing can be cumbersome, I admit. It seemed the best way, though, to make the book as accessible as possible to everyone interested in the topic whatever their training in history and languages. Nevertheless, I readily admit an ulterior motive and that is a desire to share my own sheer joy of discovery. Not only do I want to introduce such fascinating sources to the wider audience they deserve, but I would also like to infect the uninfected reader with the delightful addiction of scholarship. Come on in, I would like to suggest, the water is fine. And if you aren’t yet trained to face the heavy surf of deeper waters, well, there are marvelous discoveries to be made in tide pools as well. The ocean of learning is vast, beautiful, mysterious, and once you put your foot in the water, you may find it hard to resist its charms. One further convention used in this book needs explanation. In ordinary American English usage, the terms ‘‘continence’’ ‘‘chastity,’’ and ‘‘celibacy’’ are practically interchangeable. All generally refer to abstention from sexual activity, particularly abstention from sexual intercourse. For the purposes of this study only, however, the words will have distinct meanings, as indeed they do in most Christian theology. ‘‘Celibacy’’ will refer to the technical state of being unmar- ried. ‘‘Continence’’ will mean abstention from sexual activity, while ‘‘chastity’’ will mean moral sexual practice within one’s state of life. So, for instance, a married person is chaste if she or he performs intercourse only with her or his own spouse, however she or he is not continent, and certainly not celibate. The distinction is important for this study since some clergy during the Middle Ages were chaste, but not celibate or continent. These were the clergy who were married and continued to have conjugal relations. Some married clergy, as we will see, took vows of continence but remained married. These couples would not be celibate but would be both chaste and continent. If they broke their vows, and resumed conjugal relations, they would still be chaste but not continent. After the twelfth century, neither deacons nor priests nor bishops could contract a valid marriage. They were celibate by definition but were not necessary either continent or chaste, although they were certainly supposed to be so. Since celibacy was always recognized as a merely disci- plinary law of the church, but not a divine command, clergy could be exempted from this law. Since they had taken no vows of chastity, as had clergy in re- ligious orders, they were as free as any other Christian to live a chaste, and sex- ually active, married life once the law was lifted. Celibacy, chastity, and continence, therefore, are carefully distinguished for the purposes of the book. The difference is a bit tricky, but it seemed the best way to make the dis- tinctions the medievals themselves were making. With these few caveats out of the way, I would like to express the gratitude I owe so many people who have made this project possible. First, I would like preface ix to thank the National Humanities Center and the Luce Foundation. The bulk of this book was written while Senior Luce Fellow at the Center. I could not have had a more pleasant environment in which to work. The staff at the Center was professional, extremely helpful, and graciously welcoming. My thanks to everyone there. Particular thanks are due to Jo Ann McNamara and Elizabeth Clark, who read what I thought was the finished text of the book. Their many thought- ful and challenging suggestions strengthened the book. Without their help, the study would have been much the poorer. If the text manages to rise above the usual boring scholarly recitation, it is in part due to Paul St. Amour, who read an early draft of the book. His comments helped me see a lively narrative in my drudging research. At different stages of the project, numerous scholars offered critiques, references to sources, challenges, and encouragement. I owe them all more than I can say. Marcia Colish, Giles Constable, Mark Zier, Constant Mews, David Luscombe, Alastair Minnis, Anne Clark, Michael Clanchy, Marie Anne Mayeski, J. Frank Henderson, William W. Bassett, Donald Logan, and Teresa Berger deserve special mention here. All studies rely on the work of others, and this does more than most. The early scholarship of Franz Gillmann, Joan Morris, and Ida Raming laid the foundations for this book. Without their work this book would not exist. In truth, this study only expands and strengthens the arguments they made quite some time ago. The notes and discussions will make it apparent how much I have also relied on more recent studies, especially those of the historians Jo Ann McNamara, Marie Anne Mayeski, Maureen Miller, Robert Swanson, Prudence Allen, Anne Barstow, Ute Eisen, John Hilary Martin, Alastair Minnis, Giorgio Otranto, and Suzanne Wemple, as well as the theologians, Yves Congar, Pierre-Marie Gy, Ludwig Ott, and Peter Hu¨nermann. The story I tell is more a report of their findings than any original work of my own. I also need to thank Jane Via, a true clerica, a minister, scholar, and friend of many years, who not only encouraged me to finish this work, but also told me in no uncertain terms that I better finish it. Then there are all my friends in San Diego who listened patiently and endlessly to presentations of different stages of my research. Mostly, however, I want to thank my wife, Saralynn, for her wise patience in putting up with the alternatively whining, exuberant, moaning, manic, and petulant irrationality that always accompanies my research and writing. A special thanks is also due to Cynthia Read and the wonderful people at Oxford University Press without whom the book would never have appeared. This page intentionally left blank Contents Abbreviations, xiii 1. The State of the Question, 3 2. What Did Ordination Mean? 23 3. The Ministry of Ordained Women, 49 4. Defining Women Out of Ordination, 89 5. Conclusion, 111 Historical and Theological Postscript, 129 Appendix 1: Prayers and Rites for the Ordination of a Deaconess, 133 Appendix 2: Ordination Rites for Abbesses from the Early Middle Ages, 143 Notes, 157 Bibliography, 233 Index, 253 This page intentionally left blank Abbreviations Acta sanctorum Johannes Bolland, et al. Acta sanctorum quotquot toto orbe coluntur. 1643–1940. Reproduced Cambridge: Chadwyck-Healey, 1999–2002. CCSL Corpus christianorum, series latina CCCM Corpus christianorum, continuatio medievalis Denzinger Peter Hu¨nermann, ed.