John Wyclif has alternatively been called hero and heretic, reformer and radical, guardian and gadfly. But the true tale of this most controversial of late-medieval Englishmen is far richer and more complex. In this first major biography of John Wyclif in nearly a century, G. R. Evans employs recent research to present a fresh, focused portrait of this pivotal historical figure. In doing so, she strips away the layers of legend that have obscured our view of the real Wyclif and places him within the features of his actual historical landscape. That landscape is the world of fourteenth-century Oxford, where Wyclif spent the majority of his life. Evans, one of today's leading historians of the era, vividly re-creates the scenery of this great medieval university town with clarity and detail, providing a comprehensive view of life and learning within its walls. It was here that Wyclif earned his reputation as one of the most learned and significant scholars of his day. And it was here that he developed his views regarding the Bible, the sacraments, ecclesiastical authority and political power--views that led to his eventual condemnation by the church. Informative, dramatic and compelling, this masterful biography of John Wyclif is required reading for all lovers of history--student and scholar alike.
I appreciate the author exploring in detail the challenging world of medieval academics and basing his analysis on original rather than secondary sources. He shows considerable technical expertise. That said, this was a laborious read that did not excel in clarity either of expression or organization. Obviously, I cannot critique the accuracy of his conclusions about Wyclif, not having read the original writings myself. But Evans set out to explode all the "myths" surrounding Wyclif: that he was a heroic challenger of the RCC; that he was an original and powerful thinker and theologian; that he was involved in the production of the English translation that came to bear his name; that he had any verifiable connection to the Lollards. Evans finds no evidence in Wyclif's writings or in other "contemporary" evidence for any of this. That was a bit shocking. But he then quotes sources from less than 30 years after Wyclif's death that claim Wyclif as their leader and inspiration. He found ways to dismiss these sources, but I found this dismissal less than persuasive. All in all, he seemed so intent on debunking the myths that he was unwilling to admit any evidence that might substantiate any part of them. I was left suspecting that the truth about Wyclif is somewhere between what Foxe and Bale and other late authors said about him and what I read in this book.
G. R. Evans’ book is a welcome addition to the study of John Wyclif. Too often Wyclif studies have divided on partisan lines between Roman Catholics who see him as Antichrist and Protestant apologists who see him as the Forerunner of the Reformation. Evans’ work is valuable in that she demonstrates how both sides fail to take into account both of what Wyclif himself actually taught and Rome’s specific actions in response. As a result, one sees that Wyclif did not see himself necessarily “preaching the wonderful gospel of free grace” nor did he want to separate from the Church of Rome.
Throughout the first one hundred pages of the book, the reader begins to suspect that the real subject of the book is not John Wyclif, but the daily life of an Oxford student in the 14th century. Evans is to be commended for thoroughly setting Wyclif’s historical context. One suspects, though, that move overshadows her thesis. However, Evans does do a good, if very short, job of describing the intellectual currents which form the context of Wyclif’s doctrine. More importantly, she notes how the implications for these ideas.
As a biography, though, the book fails to narrate Wyclif’s own life beyond a passing glance. I suppose she assumes her readers know enough about Wyclif that she can avoid narrating his life. That’s fair enough, if she lets us know ahead of time. In the meanwhile, each chapter begins with an unidentified source talking about something that will figure later in the chapter, neither of which the reader knows (coupled with the fact the book is endnoted, further confusing the issue).
The last chapter does a decent job “distilling” Wyclif’s theology. Wyclif’s main points of contention boiled around his doctrine of the Eucharist and his idea of “dominion by grace.” Earlier in the book, Evans ties Wyclif’s denial of transubstantiation with philosophical currents that were prevalent. For example, all sides accepted that God cannot cause the past not to be. As such, he cannot cause matter that now exists to not have existed. The question remains, which was not original to Wyclif, if the bread changes to Christ’s body, where is the bread (Evans 62)? On a more practical note, it seems that Wyclif’s objections to transubstantiation can be placed in the same line as those of Berengar.
Lordship—and an Augustinian Aside Wyclif, following the vein of thought found in early Franciscans and (ironically) Pope John XXIII, that the church does not “own” property, but is rather non-proprietary. Further, man’s possession of the property is contingent upon his moral rectitude. Since all property (and dominion) belongs to God, God can take it away for disobedience. As Oliver O’Donovan notes, God’s gift of lordship to Adam has to be a communication and sharing of God himself to man, since otherwise it would be an alienating act of lordship in which God ceases to be Lord. Therefore, this “lent” lordship is a communicating and use of things according to rational necessity (O’Donovan 89). For Wyclif, this gift of lordship cannot be given to just a small part of the church, but constitutes the very Trinitarian communion of the church. God’s Trinitarian self-giving is the archetypal cause of all divine and human communication of spiritual and physical goods. O’Donovan concludes: all the justified “co-exist” in Christ and share in his love and lordship. Wyclif’s second point, O’Donovan notes, is Augustine’s contention that true love is rightly ordered love (presupposing moral rectitude). Any use of physical and spiritual goods is found only in this rightly-ordered love (90).
O’Donovan’s entire essay is worth meditating upon, for he places Wyclif in an undeniable Augustinian context—a context his Papal detractors cannot ignore and must take into account. There are some problems with Wyclif’s account, though. If pressed too far it leads to Donatism. Secondly, if pressed too far it denigrates any role for the institutional church. Surprisingly to some, this was a role Wyclif sought to uphold (Evans 210).
Conclusion Evans’ book is somewhat disjointed. It alternates between interesting and new insights and whatever else Evans wants to talk about. The book oscillates between the average life of a medieval academician and John Wyclif. Evans’ account suffers from undue speculation (“it seems,” or “it’s not impossible that”) that distracts the reader. Some of the chapters appear to end without warning.
With that said, Evans does a good job in showing how ordinary Wyclif really was. Wyclif’s view of the Bible was the same for any Oxfordian. While he advocated lay reading in their own language, there is some warrant that he was not uniquely responsible for the translation that bears his name. It is true that he rejected transubstantiation, but the actually doctrine wasn’t formally taught a few centuries before Wyclif, and likely taught in an unsatisfactorily manner given the repeated—and seemingly Catholic—objections to it. Wyclif wasn’t even anti-Papalist in approach, as he supported Urban against the Avignon Pope! Evans’ conclusion is that Wyclif’s view of Reform was simply not that of the later Reformation, whatever their outward similarities may have been (210). This means that any Roman Catholic attack on Wyclif must deal with the fact that Wyclif attacked an element of the Catholic Church that had been criticized by Catholics for many, many years. Further combine this was the fact that Wyclif had no intention and never saw himself as separating from the Church.
Most of the time the title and the contents of a book are more evenly matched. It takes more than half the book to get to what one expects. Still, Evans delivers. Thought-provoking.
“He went very quickly from being a willing ‘new boy’ in politics, eager to please and hopeful of worldly advancement, to being a dark and brooding commentator and something of a loose cannon. The man on the way up is generally willing to tolerate, in his own interests, things he does not entirely approve of. The able man with no prospects may discover his principles and become a danger to the Establishment.” -146
This biography of Wyclif was helpful in some ways but it was not a delight to read. It was challenging to read at times given the way that the author presented the material. A few positive notes: it gave some fascinating insight into the background of Oxford in the fourteenth century and the nature of medieval education. It also attempted to dispel some of the myths and hagiography that has evolved around John Wyclif. It is probably not the first bio of Wyclif I would turn to, but maybe the third or fourth!
More of a non-biography, owing to the dearth of evidence about Wyclif's life, but nevertheless, from the start, conveyed that this was a man of principle: "Although there are hints that he had considerable charm when he chose to exert it, Wyclif was not a man who put himself out to be likeable when something aroused his indignation. And a great deal made him indignant." "The theory of dominion that Wyclif is beginning to work out rules that no one who is in the wrong has any lawful power over others."
This book is very well documented. Evans does a masterful job of weaving together the complexity of the University around the time and terrain in which Wycliff lived. Unfortunately, I was surprised to find out that this is not much of a biography. It's more like a medieval history of Oxford and it's relationship with Church and State, with a splash of Wycliff thrown into every chapter. My guess is that it was easier (for me) to follow through the logic of each chapter's "biographical" setting because I had read Wylie's entertaining biography of Wycliff years ago, and I recently read through his Trialogus (which included a summary of his life and the context of his works). So I was already familiar with Wycliff's life prior to reading Evan's work, and I tried to fill in the blanks whenever I could. The reason why I'm only rating this book as 3 stars is because I'm not quite sure I would recommend Evan's book to anyone interested in John Wycliff himself (which is what one typically thinks of with a biography). As a detailed medieval history book, it deserves 5 stars. As a biography of Wycliff, it only deserves 3.
I was expecting a biography of Wycliffe. Instead, I received a good deal of information about late Medieval University education at Oxford, which was valuable, but it seemed as if Wycliffe was secondary to the story. Dr. Evans has a very well-researched volume and the bibliography is wonderful but I kept feeling as if she was trying to take Wycliffe "down a notch." Perhaps that's good historical research. Still, I felt a little sad upon completing her book. My preconceptions about Wycliffe took a hit. Perhaps you'll enjoy it much more than I.
This is hard going initially. Lack of details on his life means Evans defaulted to a detailed exploration of mid-14th century Oxford academia. That's interesting but is done at the expense of other social and cultural context which would have helped to connect the reader to the time, the place and to Wycliffe himself. Worth persevering with though.
I could not agree more with Daniel Davis' review. I would only like to add that the "interesting part" also includes details about how universities were organised and what studying the artes involved at the time.
A fine examination of Wyclif and his life. Lots of interesting background about Oxford and the political environment of the time that Wyclif was unable to successfully navigate.