The author of the Letter to the Hebrews reminds Christians that they’re surrounded by a terrific “cloud of witnesses.” (NRSV) That “cloud” has continued to grow in size since then. In this monthly column we will likely be desirous about a number of the people and events, over the past 2000 years, which have helped make up this “cloud.” People and events which have helped construct the community of the Christian church because it exists today.
In the seventh century AD, the Christian Church in England was transformed by the work of two remarkable men. Neither was born in England, or for that matter within the British Isles. The two men in query were Theodore of Tarsus (now in modern Turkey), also often called Theodore ‘the Syrian,’ and Hadrian ‘the African’ (from North Africa).
Though well-known to historians of early medieval England and Britain, most recent believers within the UK won’t ever have heard of them. Yet, between them, these two Christians from the Mediterranean world helped to remodel the Christian community in early England. And their influence spread across the British Isles. They were two remarkable men of religion, learning, and influence.
The British Isles within the seventh century
Politically and culturally, the British Isles within the seventh century were complex, fragmented, multi-cultural, ethnically and linguistically diverse, and experiencing a time of tremendous change.
In the early fifth century, formal Roman rule had resulted in Britain. Prior to that, Roman political and military control and cultural influence had dominated what’s now England and Wales and had prolonged well into what’s today southern Scotland (none of those countries then existed).
Further north, the highlands of Scotland were never conquered (after a failed Roman attempt within the late 1st century) and remained outside direct imperial control. Ireland was never invaded by Rome. During the time of the Roman Empire in Britain (principally from AD 43–410) much of Britain was plugged into an enormous, multi-cultural political unit that stretched from southern Scotland to Syria (and at times further east); from the Rhine and Danube frontiers to North Africa and southern Egypt.
As a result, it was possible to search out Syrian archers and Tigris boatmen operating on Hadrian’s Wall (begun c.122), rubbing shoulders with cavalry drawn from Frisia and even from the steppe lands of recent Ukraine and southern Russia (Sarmatians).
In the Roman provinces, urbanisation was encouraged, a market economy thrived, wealthy local elites bought into the Roman lifestyle, and this trickled down into wider society. Agricultural production increased to support imperial taxation and the military. Ideas from across the Roman world met and co-existed within the imperial provinces.
In the fifth century this modified dramatically. With the tip of imperial rule, unified political control collapsed, as did urban life (it had been in steep decline for over a century) and the market economy. Roman Britain fragmented right into a series of warring little states. In the east, rulers bought in ‘Germanic muscle’ to bolster their positions; within the west the identical occurred with the employment of Irish mercenaries.
Settlers from north-western Germany and southern Denmark appear to have accompanied leaders who were carving out a recent life in what had once been Roman Britain. Irish settlers arrived in western Wales. How many immigrants arrived is a matter for much heated conjecture.
By the yr 600, much of what’s now central, southern and eastern England was a patchwork of little kingdoms, through which ‘English’ was becoming the dominant language (within the ‘Old English’ form) and culture. It was becoming culturally ‘Anglo-Saxon,’ even when many in its population were descendants of indigenous communities.
In the west and north, British kingdoms (speaking a language which might turn into Welsh) resisted the incomers, with mixed results. Beyond the old imperial frontiers, Irish immigration was on its option to changing ‘Pictland’ into ‘Scotland.’ And the island of Ireland remained a conglomerate of little kingdoms, with those within the north-east strongly connected with those within the south-west of what would develop into Scotland.
It was a dynamic – if conflicted – time of change and it also witnessed the formation (and re-formation) of identities that survive into modern times.
The backstory of Christian faith within the British Isles
Christianity had an interesting backstory in Britain. We have no idea when the religion reached the islands. It is probably going that it first got here via traders from the Mediterranean world and from Gaul (modern France). There is not any record of formal missionary expeditions to the islands. Around the yr 200, the Carthaginian theologian Tertullian (in North Africa) included Britain in an inventory of places already reached by Christianity. His contemporary, the Greek theologian Origen, wrote something similar.
During the third century persecutions, believers in Britain died for his or her faith. Alban, Julius and Aaron, three Romano-British Christians (mentioned in early medieval sources), were probably martyred for the religion at the moment. After the Edict of Milan, in 313, and accompanying the conversion of Emperor Constantine to Christianity, the persecution halted.
We know that three British bishops attended the imperial council at Arles in 314. These were probably from what are actually York, London and Lincoln (but this shouldn’t be entirely certain). This reveals that, by the early 4th century, the British Christian community within the imperial provinces was organised on a regional basis under bishops. In the yr 391, Emperor Theodosius finally banned all pagan religions throughout the empire. This made Christianity the official Roman religion.
By the tip of the Roman Empire, it is probably going that Christians (whether nominal or committed) made up a sizeable proportion of the population in Roman Britain. However, these were probably concentrated in urban settings and likewise amongst most of the villa-owning class and on their estates, in the military, and within the imperial administration. Out in rural society (making up not less than 90% of the population) the image was probably mixed and our modern word ‘pagan’ is derived from the Latin for ‘country-dweller.’
In the turbulence of the fifth and sixth centuries – because the old political units broke up and reformed – we largely lose sight of Christianity in what’s today eastern England. The emerging Germanic (Anglo-Saxon) culture was pagan, worshipping gods equivalent to Woden and Thunor (higher known by their Norse names of Odin and Thor) and other gods and goddesses.
In the west and north, the British communities were stridently Christian, signalling their culture as descended from imperial times and sharply differentiated from the ‘pagan barbarians’ to the east. They appear to have been in no hurry to convert these hated incomers, but things can have been more complex on the bottom.
Christian missionaries (most famously Patrick) had had a huge effect in Ireland. From there Christian missionaries then moved the opposite way, bringing the religion into northern Britain and likewise influencing northern Anglo-Saxon rulers, who often sought refuge in Ireland, or in Irish-influenced communities equivalent to Iona, during times of dynastic conflict. This is commonly called the ‘Celtic Church,’ but no such separate term or organisation existed on the time. They simply considered themselves a part of the ‘Catholic’ (ie universal) Christian Church, within the West. Later labels fairly obscure and confuse this.
In 597, official missionaries – sent by the pope in Rome – arrived in Kent. Their job was to work to convert the English kingdoms; bolster British Christian communities that had survived the collapse of Roman rule; and link up with the surviving British Church, to form one united organisation headed by the brand new arrivals (this last part didn’t go well for various reasons). This official Christian conversion activity was added to the prevailing Christian missionary activities going down within the islands, led by Irish and Gaulish (now Frankish) Christians. An enormous religious change was now added to the combo of communities in flux. It was a unprecedented time.
The impact of two remarkable Mediterranean Christians
By the center of the seventh century a lot of the early English kingdoms had converted to Christianity but the brand new religion had still not firmly put down roots; there have been ongoing disputes with the British Church (despite the Synod of Whitby in 664 which decided in favour of the Roman, fairly than British Church, in a lot of key areas); church organisation was still fairly rudimentary; many individuals had not yet converted or were in areas thinly covered by clergy; there was a severe shortage of local people trained in scriptural knowledge, liturgy and leadership. It was on this context that a recent archbishop of Canterbury (the pinnacle church within the country) had died, in 667, while in Rome and before receiving papal authority.
The pope’s first alternative to interchange him was Hadrian ‘the African,’ an abbot born in North Africa but resident in Italy. Hadrian turned down the job and suggested the 65-year-old Theodore of Tarsus (a spot now in modern Turkey). He had been educated at Antioch and in Edessa in Syria and, for that reason, he is typically called Theodore ‘the Syrian.’ Both men had experienced a high level of turbulence of their lives.
Theodore had fled Tarsus after the Persian Empire conquered it and other cities. This Persian advance was followed by Muslim conquests, which reached Tarsus in 637. It is uncertain after which of those conquests he left his native region. After studying in Constantinople, he relocated to Rome. He was a non secular refugee fleeing devastating wars.
Hadrian was North African, probably a Berber, and almost definitely from what’s now Libya. It is probably going that the Arab Islamic invasions of Cyrenaica (AD 642–645) caused Hadrian to flee to Italy as a refugee. Consequently, each men’s lives resonate remarkably with the turbulent world of the twenty-first century.
In the tip, in 668, the pope sent them each. Theodore was to supply the leadership in church government and policy. Hadrian – who was thoroughly versed within the scriptures, an excellent administrator, and fluent in Latin and Greek – was to remodel the knowledge-base of the brand new Church and educate candidates for manning it and leading it. The early eighth century Northumbrian monk, Bede, wrote that Hadrian had already made two journeys into Gaul (modern France), so was probably experienced as a diplomat in addition to being an abbot. It turned out to be a winning combination.
The transformation of the Christian Church in England
Theodore provided strong leadership which – as Bede later commented – “all of the English obeyed.” He energetically toured the kingdoms, filled vacant bishoprics and presided over the primary council of the complete English Church, at Hertford in 673. In addition, he established clear territorial boundaries for the varied dioceses, and founded recent dioceses where needed. The body of canon law drawn up under his supervision, and his structure of dioceses and pastoral care, set the pattern each for future missionary work and for teaching recent converts.
The latter need was taken up by Hadrian, who became the abbot of Saint Peter’s and Saint Paul’s in Canterbury and began a faculty there. The Canterbury school taught a large curriculum: scripture study, theology, poetry, astronomy, and calendar calculation. Sacred music was also taught. Its students (whatever their birth language) learned Latin and Greek, the international languages of study.
Theodore died in 690, aged 88. Hadrian died in 710, of uncertain age. A recent generation of Christian scholars and leaders emerged due to their work. These were either taught directly by them, equivalent to Aldhelm (died 709) who later became Bishop of Sherborne (Dorset) and was energetic in missionary work; or who (equivalent to Bede and Alcuin of York) were influenced by their educational programme or by those that they had taught.
Alcuin of York later described Hadrian’s legacy in Britain as “the sunshine that got here out of Africa.” What had been a struggling missionary enterprise, had develop into a well-rooted province of the universal Church. It was a remarkable achievement by these two refugees, who had fled their homes resulting from warfare and spiritual upheaval, after which been sent to Britain to reform and revitalise the Christian community there.
Martyn Whittock is a historian and a Licensed Lay Minister within the Church of England. The writer, or co-author, of fifty-six books, his work covers a big selection of historical and theological themes. In addition, as a commentator and columnist, he has written for several print and online news platforms and is steadily interviewed on TV and radio news and discussion programmes exploring the interaction of religion and politics. His recent books include: Trump and the Puritans (2020), Daughters of Eve (2021), Jesus The Unauthorized Biography (2021), The End Times, Again? (2021), The Story of the Cross (2021), Apocalyptic Politics (2022), and American Vikings: How the Norse Sailed into the Lands and Imaginations of America (2023). He is currently writing Vikings within the East: From Vladimir the Great to Vladimir Putin, the Origin of a Contested Legacy in Russia and Ukraine (2025 forthcoming).
