"That the nation, seeing that their temples are not destroyed, may remove error from their hearts." ~ St. Gregory the Great's letter to St. Mellitus on reconsecrating pagan temples as Christian churches, AD 601

Saint Mellitus refuses communion to the sons of Sabert, king of the East Saxons.
Etching by Hubert François Bourguignon Gravelot, 1743.

There are two facile and credulously accepted claims that make the rounds of Late Roman-interest online fora and social media with some frequency. They are roughly as follows:

“Christianity sought to destroy the art, architecture and culture of classical civilization.”

and 

“Modern Christian holidays are nothing more than ancient pagan holidays with a Christian overlay.”

Both of these declarations are treated uncritically as fact by those who use the outmoded Gibbon as their sole guide to Late Antiquity. The second is also used by those of a Protestant persuasion who wish to prove that Catholicism (and Orthodoxy to a lesser extent) are little better than warmed-over paganism.

Context has been added to the first statement on numerous occasions on this blog, including here, here, and here. The second has been dealt with as well, here and here.

Interestingly, there is a 1,400 year-old letter from Pope Saint Gregory the Great that addresses both of these claims rather directly. Recalling this letter to the attention of our readers is also especially fitting for this season of Thanksgiving in the United States as St. Gregory specifically calls out in his letter one of the reasons for the institution of feasts as to “return thanks to the Giver of all things”.

The letter was recorded by Saint Bede the Venerable as part of his great work, the Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation, which was written shortly before Bede’s death ca. AD 735. By that time, Gregory's letter was over a century old. It was addressed to the abbot Mellitus (later, Saint Mellitus), a missionary who would go on to become the bishop of London and archbishop of Canterbury. In the letter, Gregory offers advice to Mellitus, then still in France, about how to conduct himself as a missionary among the heathen barbarians who ruled over formerly Christian Britain. 

Here is the letter in full, with some comments interspersed:

Chapter XXX: A Copy of the Letter Which Pope Gregory Sent to the Abbot Mellitus, then going into Britain

The aforesaid messengers being departed, the holy father, Gregory, sent after them letters worthy to be preserved in memory, wherein he plainly shows what care he took of the salvation of our nation. The letter was as follows:

To his most beloved son, the Abbot Mellitus; Gregory the servant of the servants of God. 

We have been much concerned since the departure of our congregation that is with you, because we have received no account of the success of your journey. When, therefore, Almighty God shall bring you to the most reverend man our brother bishop, St Augustine, tell him what I have, upon mature deliberation on the affair of the English, determined upon, viz. that the temples of the idols in that nation ought not to be destroyed. Let holy water be made, and sprinkled in the said temples; let altars be erected, and let relics be deposited in them. For if those temples are well built, it is requisite that they be converted from the worship of the devils to the service of the true God; that the nation, seeing that their temples are not destroyed, may remove error from their hearts, and knowing and adoring the true God, may the more familiarly resort to the same places to which they have been accustomed. 

Here we see Gregory advising Mellitus to preserve and reconsecrate pagan temples as Christian churches. To anyone familiar with late Roman history, this advice should come as no great surprise. While certainly a few celebrated examples exist of Christian populations actively tearing down their local pagan temples, examples of pagan temples converted into Christian churches abound, including the Pantheon in Rome which, under Gregory’s successor Pope Boniface IV, became the Church of Saint Mary and the Martyrs. Another famous example was the Parthenon at Athens, which became the Church of Maria Parthenos in the late 6th century AD. A scholarly article written in 2017 by Dutch classicist Feyo Schuddeboom goes into considerable detail about the pagan temples in the city of Rome that were reconsecrated as churches, counting eleven examples. The list may be found in this excellent article by Sarah Bond that appeared in Forbes: Were Pagan Temples All Smashed Or Just Converted Into Christian Ones?

The trend among contemporary scholars seems to view the shift from paganism to Christianity in Late Antiquity as less an abrupt and violent clash of cultures and more a gradual transition that involved, as the Apostle Paul would famously recommend,  “the proving of all things, holding fast that which is good, but refraining from all appearances of evil.” [1 Thessalonians 5:21]. Gregory’s letter, though written regarding the pagan temples in Britain rather than Rome, supports that thesis.

The second section of Gregory’s letter deals with the replacement of pagan feasts with those particular to Christianity: 

And because they have been used to slaughter many oxen to devils, some solemnity must be exchanged for them on this account, as that on the day of the dedication, or the nativities of the holy martyrs, whose relics are deposited, they may build themselves huts of the boughs of trees, about those churches which have been turned to that use from temples, and celebrate the solemnity with religious feasting, and no more offer feasts to the Devil, but kill cattle to the praise of God in their eating, and return thanks to the Giver of all things for their sustenance, to the end that, whilst some gratifications are outwardly permitted them, they may the more easily consent to the inward consolations of God. For there is no doubt that it is impossible to efface every thing at once from their obdurate minds; because he who endeavors to ascend to the highest place, rises by degrees or steps, and not by leaps.

Thus the Lord made himself known to the people of Israel in Egypt; and yet he allowed them the use of the sacrifices which they were wont to offer to the Devil, in his own worship; so as to command them in his sacrifice to kill beasts, to the end that, changing their hearts, they might lay aside one part of the sacrifice, whilst they retained another; that whilst they offered the same beasts which they were wont to offer, they should offer them to God, and not to idols; and thus they would no longer be the same sacrifices. 

This it behooves your affection to communicate to our aforesaid brother, that he being there present, may consider how he is to order all things. God preserve you in safety, most beloved son.

Given the 17th of June, in the nineteenth year of the reign of our lord, the most pious emperor, Mauritius Tiberius, the eighteenth year after the consulship of our said lord. The fourth indiction. (AD 601).

Taken from Giles: The Complete Works of Venerable Bede, Vol. II, The Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation, Book I, Chapter XXX, page 141

Note that Gregory is not calling for Mellitus to take pagan festivals and simply rename them as Christian feasts. Rather, he is suggesting that new feasts be instituted on the date of a particular martyr’s birth or death, or the date upon which a church is consecrated. Numerous such feast days may be found in ancient Catholic martyrologies and missals, including dates for remembering revered local saints as well as those celebrated by the universal Church. Again, Gregory is following the advice of St. Paul – pagan festal practices which are neutral and universal, such as holding banquets, decorating, and celebration may be incorporated into Christian holy days. Those practices, however, which are specific to pagan superstitions such as idol-worship, astrology, gluttony, sinful revels, and the like, must be done away with.

It is interesting to note that the same approach was used by the Jesuits of the 17th century when evangelizing the native tribes of America in New France. I outlined some of the pagan practices which the Jesuit missionaries considered incompatible with Christianity in a previous post—When the Jesuits were Catholic. That post also includes an insightful quote drawn from St. Jean Brebeuf’s speech to the elders of the Huron nation which distinguishes those neutral customs and practices of all nations from those which concern superstitious beliefs:

“As for our ways of doing things, [Fr. Brebeuf] said that it was quite true they were altogether different from theirs—that we had this in common with all nations; that, in fact, there were as many different customs as there were different peoples upon the earth; that the manner of living, of dressing, and of building houses was entirely different in France from what it was here, and in other countries of the world, and that this was not what we found wrong. But, as to what concerned God, all nations ought to have the same sentiments; that the reality of a God was one, and so clear that it was only necessary to open the eyes to see it written in large characters upon the faces of all creatures.” 

Echoes of St. Gregory’s advice may be discerned in this statement, and in the Jesuits' mode of evangelizing the tribes of New France.

It’s worth mentioning as a final word that things fell out poorly for St. Mellitus and the pagans of London. Bede records in his History that King Sabert of the East Saxons was baptized by Mellitus and permitted a bishopric to be set up in London. Upon Sabert’s death in AD 616, however, his three sons looked with scorn upon Mellitus and returned to paganism. The dramatic confrontation between Mellitus and the sons of Sabert, as depicted in the etching at the top of this post, is described by Bede as follows:

This confusion was increased by the death of Sabert, king of the East-Saxons, who departing to the heavenly kingdom, left three sons, still pagans, to inherit his temporal crown. They immediately began to profess idolatry, which, during their father's reign, they had seemed a little to abandon, and they granted free liberty to the people under their government to serve idols. And when they saw the bishop, whilst celebrating mass in the church, give the eucharist to the people, they, puffed up with barbarous folly, were wont, as it is reported, to say to him, "Why do you not give us also that white bread, which you used to give to our father Saba (for so they used to call him), and which you still continue to give to the people in the church?" 

To whom he answered, "If you will be washed in that laver of salvation, in which your father was washed, you may also partake of the holy bread of which he partook; but if you despise the laver of life, you may not receive the bread of life."  

They replied, "We will not enter into that laver, because we do not know that we stand in need of it, and yet we will eat of that bread."

And being often earnestly admonished by him, that the same could not be done, nor any one admitted to partake of the sacred oblation without the holy cleansing, at last, they said in anger, "If you will not comply with us in so small a matter as that is which we require, you shall not stay in our province." And accordingly they obliged him and his followers to depart from their kingdom.

Taken from Giles: The Complete Works of Venerable Bede, Vol. II, The Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation, Book I, Chapter XXX, page 191

Mellitus then removed from London first to Kent and later back to France to await events. He would not return to London, but would eventually succeed St. Laurentius as archbishop of Canterbury in AD 619. 

Meanwhile, the sons of Sabert would come to a bad end, defeated and slain by the Gewissae (or West Saxons) in AD 620.

Interview with Michael T. Cibenko, the author of Masaru — a new novel for young Catholics

Getting young readers interested in the grand sweep of history is one of my callings in life. So when an outstanding new Catholic historical novel emerges that focuses on some obscure but momentous event that few people know about, I'm all over it. 

Fitting that bill perfectly is Masaru, the tale of a young Catholic samurai in mid-17th century Japan.

Written by New Jersey author Michael T. Cibenko, Masaru tells the story of Shiro Nakagawa, a 17 year-old convert to Catholicism fighting a desperate battle to maintain the faith during the aggressively anti-Catholic Tokugawa Shogunate. Prior to reading this book, I knew very little about the history of Catholicism in Japan, let alone the Shimabara Rebellion in Kyushu which pitted an armed band of Catholic ronin and villagers against the Shogun's army of samurai. Masaru does exactly what a good historical novel is meant to do—it immerses the reader into the historical events, creating realistic, sympathetic and complex characters acting within an enjoyable, fast-moving plot. At the same time, the story kindles a strong desire to know more about the events described. What was the Shimabara Rebellion? Why did it happen? Which episodes in the novel are based on actual historical events? 

Mr. Cibenko has an intriguing story of his own. Upon graduating from college, he worked as an English teacher in Japan, tramping the very ground where the events described in Masaru take place. It was there that he came to know the small but devout community of Japanese Catholics and to study their storied history. It was there also that Michael met his wife.

I had the opportunity to ask Michael a few questions about Masaru and his motivations for writing this exceptional novel, perfect for Catholics young and old. I hope you enjoy the following interview, and will be inspired to pick up a copy of his book!

Masaru places the reader into a fascinating historical period that is very different from life as we experience it today. What aspects of the novel do you hope will speak to young Catholics today most strongly?

MTC: All historical periods are fascinating in their own particular ways. Even though this story takes place long ago in a faraway land, I believe readers will be able to connect with its characters. Regardless of the era into which we’re born, we all experience those universal aspects of the human condition: joy and fear, hope and doubt, love and loneliness. I hope that young Catholics might come away with a deeper appreciation for the faith, and understand there have always been those throughout history who have been persecuted for professing and practicing what we so often take for granted.

Click here for more info.

I loved the quotes and proverbs at the beginning of each chapter. What was your motive for incorporating those particular quotes in the text?

MTC: I have a faint childhood memory of reading a book that utilized interesting quotes (I believe they’re called “epigraphs”) at the beginning of each chapter, and I just thought that was a really neat device for setting a tone. Even when I kept a journal, I always liked to include lines from movies, or lyrics from songs, that reflected what I was experiencing at any given time. For this book, which on some level is about the marriage of Christian and Japanese culture, I wanted to include one quote from “the West” (primarily from Scripture), and one quote from “the East” (primarily Japanese proverbs).  The idea was to have the two quotes in some way reflect or complement one another.  For several of the chapters, it was a fair bit of work finding the right ones!

A manuscript like Masaru can take considerable time, effort, and inspiration to create. Did any surprising or unexpected things happen during the writing of the book? 

MTC: I was certainly surprised by how much research was required. On average, for every page of writing, I probably had to do about ten pages of reading! At first I thought I could mainly rely on my own experiences living in Japan. But when writing about life in the 17th century, I had to consider so many small details. Beyond that, I was continually struck by how so many of the faithful were willing to risk torture and death, rather than renounce the faith. I often found myself asking, "Would I have been able to do that?"

Shiro’s story in Masaru is inspiring. I know he is based on a real person in history—Shiro Amakusa. How does the fictional Shiro compare to the historical figure?

MTC: The decision about what to name the book’s main character was one I considered for quite a while. Though the events of the Shimabara Rebellion are fairly well documented, the real Shiro Amakusa is a person about whom not as much is known. Giving the book’s character the last name of Nakagawa, the family name of my Japanese grandmother, allowed me some freedom to take more creative license. “Masaru” was actually a nickname my grandmother had given me, which reflects the connection of the book’s title to its main character. Though there are surely differences, the real Shiro provided all the inspiration for the one in Masaru.

The events in Masaru are reminiscent of the recent film, Silence by Martin Scorsese—though while the film follows a protagonist who eventually denies his Catholic faith to survive, the characters in Masaru heroically risk all in defense of the faith. Was this film on your mind at all when you wrote Masaru?

MTC: Though I had seen Silence, I was more influenced by a 1962 Japanese movie called The Revolutionary, which tells the tale of the Christian uprising from the perspective of the peasants who were being persecuted. Certain details in Masaru, such as “the raincoat dance,” were depicted in that film. Though it was well made, the actor who played Shiro was, I felt, a bit too old for the role. I'd love to see a film version of the story starring a young unknown actor. 

Michael T. Cibenko
author of Masaru.

How close to the history of the Shimabara Uprising is Masaru? Is there a particular source that you would recommend for readers who want to know more about this time period?

MTC: As much as possible, I tried to stay true to the timeline of historical events. The main liberty I took was in shifting the location of those events from the Shimabara Peninsula to Kumamoto Prefecture, about fifty miles to the southeast.  I had lived in a rural village situated between the towns of Yatsushiro and Hitoyoshi, and I wanted to use that more intimately familiar setting. Much of what I learned about the events of the uprising was during my visit to the Amakusa Christian Museum and many of the historical sites in the region. I realize a trip to Japan is not an easy thing, especially nowadays, but I’d still encourage readers to check out those things online. I’d also recommend Christ’s Samurai by Jonathan Clements, a solid historical account of The Shimabara Rebellion.

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Thanks, Michael, for relaying your thoughts. Here's hoping that many young Catholics will read and appreciate the outstanding novel you have written!