46 hanna vollrath
bishop of Basle in 1025 into paying him a considerable amount of money; he
would have considered it part of the servitium regis, which the churches had
been accustomed to render from time immemorial. Some twenty years later this
was considered to be not only inappropriate but a sin. When Wipo finished
his Gesta Cuonradi shortly after 1046 during the reign of Conrad’s son and
successor Henry III he reports that simoniac heresy suddenly appeared when
King Conrad and his queen accepted an immense amount of money from the
cleric Udalrich upon the latter’s instalment on the episcopal throne of Basle.
Conrad, Wipo was eager to continue, later repented of this sin vowing never
to accept money again for an abbey or a bishopric and, so Wipo added, he
more or less kept this promise.
Wipo’s judgement mirrors the state of the debate in the late 1040s when
simony and nicolaitism had come to be used as synonyms for an utterly de-
praved state of the church. Historians have tried for a long time to answer the
question why these two themes came to the fore around the middle of the
eleventh century. Why did ‘church reform’ become so much more important
a topic, and why did it become equated with the demand to fight simony and
nicolaitism? For a long time historians followed the contemporary sources in
their verdict that morally and spiritually the church was indeed in a damnable
state and that the cry for reform of the church meant that people had become
aware of the growing abuse. A closer look at the early medieval parishes reveals,
however, that clerical marriage, that is nicolaitism, must have been a matter
of some importance; that, in fact, the position of priest more often than not
was handed down from father to son, a situation that must even be considered
beneficial to church life, as there was no regular training for the priesthood,
and a son, who had been watching his father fulfil the sacerdotal rites, must
have been in a much better position to act as priest than someone who had
not had this experience from his early boyhood.
As far as the ‘Reichskirche’ (imperial church) was concerned, nobody would
have denied that according to the holy canons the conferment of a bishopric
included an election by the clergy and the people. But in the early middle
ages clerus et populus were not conceived of as a defined electorial body that
arrived at independent decisions according to established rules. Rather clergy
and people ‘voted’ by accepting their new spiritual lord as any lay band of
followers would have to accept their lord. This acceptance was regulated by
custom and the notion of propriety. With lay people hereditary rights played
the most decisive part. No hereditary succession was valid, however, without
a solemn rite of conferment through the hands of the lord. It was the lord’s
investiture that transformed entitlement into legitimate succession. Both were
so much bound together in unseparable unity that there were no rules as to how
to proceed if customary titles of heredity clashed with a lord’s right to invest.
We tend to think of these two factors as two separable and hence separate titles.
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