The idea of saints and sainthood are familiar to all, irrelevant of religious faith. In this Very Short Introduction, Simon Yarrow looks at the origins, ideas, and definitions of sainthood, sanctity, and saints in the early Church, tracing their development in history and explaining the social roles saints played in the ancient, medieval, and modern worlds.Along the way Yarrow considers the treatment of saints as objects of literary and artistic expression and interpretation, and as examples of idealised male and female heroism, and compares Christian saints and holy figures to venerated figures in other religious cultures, including Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism. He concludes by considering the experiences of devotees to saints, and looking at how saints continue to be a powerful presence in our modern world.ABOUT THE The Very Short Introductions series from Oxford University Press contains hundreds of titles in almost every subject area. These pocket-sized books are the perfect way to get ahead in a new subject quickly. Our expert authors combine facts, analysis, perspective, new ideas, and enthusiasm to make interesting and challenging topics highly readable.
Dr Yarrow is a Senior Lecturer in Medieval History in the School of History and Cultures at the University of Birmingham, England.
Simon read for his BA and MA in History at the University of Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. He then moved to Oxford and read for a D.Phil. on saints’ cults in twelfth century England (1995-1998). In 1999 he taught medieval history at St Mary’s University College, Strawberry Hill, before teaching at Birkbeck College, University of London, for two years (2000-2002). In 2000 Simon was awarded the Past and Present Research Fellowship. He spent two rewarding years at Liverpool University (2002-2004), in an AHRC post-doctoral research fellowship, working with a team of young scholars on Anglo-Norman historiography, before taking his current post at Birmingham in the autumn of 2004.
This is an overview of the history of sainthood in Christianity: how the canonization process changed over time (i.e. from mostly dispersed to increasingly controlled by Rome,) what types of individuals have been selected (from ascetics and martyrs to the heads of orders and other more conventional candidates,) the changing incidence of women saints (while always far less than males, at times almost nonexistent,) and who were some of the more prominent (or atypical) saints.
The book’s organization is primarily a chronological flow, but there are a couple chapters that are of a more topical nature (e.g. on female saints and about hagiographies [“biographies” of saints that mix fact and fiction.]) It was fascinating to me to learn that we are amid a resurgence of canonization. The making of saints had fallen off for a time around the 1800’s (presumably at least in part because it became increasingly challenging / embarrassing in an “Enlightened” age to argue for miracles [“proof” of which is necessary as part of the process.]) However, that can’t be the full story because since John Paul II there’s been a substantial increase in canonization, while we have less reason to believe in supernatural phenomena than ever.
The book takes an agnostic / scholarly stance on the rightness or wrongness of sainthood and doesn’t go out of its way to discuss the scandalous. However, it does not shy away from – here and there – calling out misbehavior of the Church (e.g. Papal Indulgences and political canonization.) The economist in me found it fascinating that Indulgences gained fungibility – i.e. tradable as an intermediary of value, i.e. like cash.
I found the book interesting despite its occasional drifts into obscure theological / historical territory. It’s readable and, at times, fascinating.
One of the difficulties I’ve always had as a writer is predicting quite how much space I need to cover a particular topic. While there is room for contraction and elaboration on most topics, some require a minimum length to do them justice while others will run out of steam quite quickly. The subject of a book will always be more than can be contained in an article. When I finish reading many of OUP’s Very Short Introductions, I find myself unable to say exactly what the author wants me to know about the subject, to the extent that I suspect this problem lies with the publishers more than the author.
In regard to the current volume, I can tell quite clearly that the subject of saints, across two millennia of Christian history, is huge. Simon Yarrow conveys this fact very clearly, partially because it is often clear where an avenue has not been explored fully, or he makes a statement about a subject on which he does not elaborate. It became clear to me quite quickly that there were a number of ways in which the subject of ‘saints’ across the centuries might be discussed – a narrative or thematic history; a series of lives or hagiographies; a theological exploration of the changing meaning of saints within Christianity – and that Yarrow emphasised the former and did little with the latter, where I think most of my interest may lie. While I don’t dispute the choice, the execution ends up with a few too many bits of the story, too many minor asides, that don’t add up to a very clear view. It’s more of a shame because Yarrow clearly wanted some kind of a throughline with the use of superhuman figures to reflect on our humanity, but it just isn’t clearly there between the introduction and the afterword.
Despite all that, I did enjoy this book and I learned a lot about certain aspects of sainthood. While the central authority of the church has tried to control sainthood through formalized processes, it’s most powerful forms always seem to be those that have the most meaning in local communities that venerate the saint regardless of official canonization. As such, throughout most of its history sainthood has remained a powerful way for lay Christians to connect to their God and it remains such even in the politicized atmosphere of canonization since Pope John Paul II revived it in the late twentieth century. Also, even if Yarrow does not emphasise this, it is a clear insight into the Christian mind how much their identity rests on martyrs – whether during actual persecutions, or the self-martyrdom of ascetics once that pathway was cut off for them by their rise to power. A Christian will always find a way to suffer and claim it is for you.
Among the general history chapters there are three thematic chapters on ‘gender’, the Virgin Mary, and hagiography, which I think point the way to a more interesting structure for a book on this theme. The ‘gender’ chapter is really about women, as it does not discuss how masculinity intersects with saintliness, nor does it focus on the queerer aspects of saints blurring gender lines when they dress as men to join convents. But the discrepancy between male and female saints is significant, and I found the discussion about why this might be interesting. The chapter on Mary did not get into whether or not she should be considered a saint, but does discuss how her role in the church developed beyond her role in scripture. The hagiography chapter was probably my favourite, and I enjoyed that Yarrow was happy to present his own enthusiasm for the genre against the assumptions that it is fundamentally praise literature.
Overall, an insightful little book that I do feel could be better, but I also think is very good. I intend to read more about saints this year, and this book has provided me with a good overview that I look forward to building upon.