Finnegans Wake and confession, in both secular and religious contexts, are each examined through the lens of the other. The aim is to ‘de-confuse’ the fusion, thrice repeated in the Wake, of ‘confession’ and ‘confusion’. Eight observations are illustrated through close reading: i) confession directs the text in two chapters, Shem’s in I.7 and HCE’s in II.3; ii) both present as public not private confessions; iii) there is no auricular confession; iv) widespread inadvertent confessions found in the Wake’s ‘fallen’ language, supposedly Freudian slips, are a source of sense-making power; v) any confession is always a qualified confession – blame is always dispersed; vi) there is no torture leading to involuntary confession; vii) the book doesn’t operate within the tradition of classical confessional texts; viii) it knows that confession split Christianity and projects that split onto the dialectical operations of the narrative. The chapter argues for the productive and overlooked potential of ‘syntagmatic’ or narrative approaches that read the text as sequential form, and it suggests that the plurality of narratives undermines theoretical generalizations of the human as ‘a confessing animal’.

Tertullian (ca. 170–225) was a Christian writer whose work provides some of the scant evidence we have for North African Christianity of that era. Little is known about his life, and details from later Christian writers like Jerome and Eusebius are dubious at best. What we can say with certainty is that Tertullian became increasingly rigorist over the course of his life – with respect to ethics, doctrine, and communal boundaries. Indeed, his increasing rigorism aligned him with a broader movement of rigorists in the North African Christian community, the Church of the New Prophecy (traditionally known as Montanism). This Christian revivalist movement began in Phrygia during the mid-second century but migrated to various regions throughout the Mediterranean basin, including Carthage. The Church of the New Prophecy understood the history of salvation as one marked by increasingly intense moral rigor: the Old Testament patriarchs were allowed conduct (polygamy, for example) that was prohibited by Jesus and the apostles in the New Testament. Indeed, God’s revelation continued in the oracular statements of “new prophets” like Montanus, Priscilla, and Maximilla, statements that were understood as equally authoritative utterances of the Spirit.

This chapter argues that in the early medieval period, Catholic law both reflected and reinforced a largely “horizontal” Church structure, in which bishops played a central role, often in close engagement with secular lords and rulers. The first part of the chapter surveys the types of existing evidence for early medieval Church law, from the Carolingians up until the Gregorian Reform of circa 1050. The second part focuses on continuities between the Carolingian reforms and the tenth and early eleventh centuries. Recent scholarship has increasingly argued that the Carolingian reforms did not end with the fragmentation of the Carolingian empire. Building on that work, this chapter describes three examples of continuities between the Carolingian and Ottonian periods.

Chapter 2 deals with the rituals of penance and reconciliation. These took two main forms: the ritual of public penance prescribed by the church courts for the readmission of excommunicated persons, and the more informal rituals of reconciliation in which individuals settled interpersonal conflicts and disagreements. Public penance has often been neglected by historians of the English Reformation, who have tended to echo the complaints of puritan critics that it fell short of a fully reformed system of discipline. Yet it deserves more attention as one of the few religious rituals in which the laity, rather than the clergy, took the leading role. This chapter argues that it was flexible and effective and that it resembled, more closely than has generally been realised, the consistorial system used in the Scottish and Continental Reformed churches. It also argues that penance and reconciliation were performative rituals which depended for their validity as much on gestures as on words. They were social interactions, in which an apology had to be both offered and accepted in order for the reconciliation to take effect, and in which the body language of the penitent was closely scrutinised for signs of genuine remorse.

This chapter provides a survey of ecclesiastical and monastic organisations and how lay people engaged with them. There was no singular ‘Frankish Church’. There was considerable variation in what people wanted, how the liturgy was arranged, access to church councils and books, and how communities connected to Roman, English, Irish, Spanish, or Byzantine religious worlds. Communities were united by relatively compact beliefs, not least the need for imminent moral reform and penance ahead of an inevitable appearance at Judgement Day – whether it was at hand or far in the future.

Chapter 1 uses the Middle English Charters of Christ to outline a medieval theory of money as debt. The charter lyrics pretend to be deeds, grants, or writs by which Christ cancels the debt owed to God by sinners, or, alternatively, bequeaths the kingdom of heaven to the faithful. In exchange for the remission or the inheritance, the charter stipulates that humankind owes a “rent” to Christ of love and the regular observance of the sacrament of penance. The form of the charter lyrics imitates the form of legal documents, using the verbal formulae and visual markers designed to ensure legal and documentary authenticity as a kind of spiritual guarantee: the lyrics are sincere forgeries. I argue that the kind of belief at work in this act of forgery is a monetary belief. The lyrics function as close analogues to money in that they measure debt and depend for their value on the creditor’s right to repayment. At the same time, like money, they depend for their operation on the community’s active willingness to participate in a shared fiction.

Christians oriented their lives towards the expectation of a life in the hereafter and yet had to orient themselves in this world. This resulted in very different attitudes. While some were fundamentally anti-family or, rather, against sex in general, others thought about what it meant to have a Christian marriage. While some wanted to participate in the pleasures of everyday life, others rejected this. All tried to live a humble life and do good works, especially towards the poor, orphans and widows. Penance was an institution that allowed Christians to be absolved of their sins, but it also allowed bishops to gain power, albeit in varying degrees Therefore, the question of a Christian way of life was always controversial.

In the first decades of the sixteenth century, humanists such as Erasmus and the Reformers such as Luther and Calvin subjected to a fierce critique the doctrine and practices of sacramental confession. The sacrament of penance and the hearing of confessions were scheduled for debate in each of the three periods of the council: during the first period in the context of the discussions on justiification and indulgences and in the draft canons on purgatory that were not promulgated; in the second period where the traditional teaching and related practices were affirmed in the doctrinal decree on the most holy sacraments of penance and extreme unction approved at that time; and in the third period where the rushed closure of the council prevented a deeper investigation, resting with a merely jurisdictional treatment of the topic.

The printed difusion of the conciliar decrees had a dogmatic character that assured the circulation of the teaching of the Roman Church, approved by the council and promulated by the pontiff, on the basis of which were updated the penitential summas and manuals of the confessors inherited and revised in the last centuries of the Middle Ages and now revised again.

In the pastoral practice after Trent, the effort to establish a control over the observance of the ecclesiastical precept of an annual confession with its registration in an appropriate book failed. Instead, a new ecclesiastical furnishing, the confessional box, appeared that assured at thesame time the making public and the secrecy of the administration of the sacrament.

This chapter traces the dual legacy of Christian asceticism as an art of living with distinct but related rules for virtue in monastic and married life. The forms of ascetic virtue cultivated in the early Church have a significant afterlife in sixteenth century fiction and drama, exemplified in Thomas More’s Utopia (1516) and Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale (1610). In Utopia, married couples are essential citizens of an ascetic commonwealth, but also potentially at odds with its communal quasi-monastic virtues. The Winter’s Tale reveals a fault line in marriage as an ascetic mode of life: the tension between marriage as a legal code and marriage as a sacrament and relationship of fidelity can only be resolved by turning to the more radical asceticism of penance. These works demonstrate how ascetic practices mediate between self and society; they reflect on ways to cultivate a virtuous life that extend beyond the household or the cloister to the wider world of public and political action.

Chapter 4 argues in favor of seeing medieval justice as penitential justice with the ultimate goal of spiritual reform. Medieval society blurred the lines between sin and crime, penance and punishment. Recognizing this distortion is how one makes sense of peine forte et dure. Pain as an experience is key to the performance of penance. Through physical pain, the disordered soul is righted and the sinner gains entrance to heaven. Fasting, seclusion, denial of luxuries – these are all ascetic practices with a long association with Christian penance. Even pressing with weights appears as a penitential practice in numerous sermon stories from the era. Exposing the uncooperative sinner to an ascetic lifestyle, even if it was against his wishes, was in the best interests of the defendant’s soul. As a coercive measure, it helped to begin the process of purging his sin before he agreed to place himself in the hands of the jury. As such, he displayed to jurors his willingness to reform his ways and reconcile with the Christian community.

Chapter 1 examines precisely what peine forte et dure entailed during the Middle Ages. Paying special attention to the vocabulary related to peine forte et dure in the legal record, this chapter argues that “hard prison” (prison forte et dure) should be considered an umbrella term that includes a wide variety of practices, such as fasting, cold and nakedness, seclusion, and sometimes pressing. The make-up of the punishment depended on the nature of the crime and the defendant’s conduct at court. The traditional narrative sees an evolution in the practice from prison forte et dure, described as a starvation diet and miserable prison conditions, intended as a coercive measure to encourage the defendant to plead, gradually superseded by peine forte et dure, pressing with stones and irons unto death. The medieval evidence, instead, shows that some silent defendants fasted while others were pressed, and at no point did the practice shed its coercive nature altogether. This chapter also locates the practice’s origins in the church’s penitential practices, specifically in the public penance (paenitentia publica) assigned to murderers, political rebels, and other serious crimes.

Between AD c. 400 and c. 1100, Christian ideas about the afterlife changed in subtle but important ways. This chapter outlines broad trends in thought about the afterlife in this period in the Latin West, and examines the concomitant changes in thinking about the post-mortem fates of souls. Ongoing contemporary discourse around topics such as sin and penance or baptism contributed to developments in the way that contemporaries understood the afterlife, including heaven, hell, and an interim state between death and universal judgement. Significantly, as Christians came to be more certain about some aspects of the afterlife, the possibility of salvation for individual souls was perceived to be less certain. As a result, by the end of the period there is much greater evidence for concern about the post-mortem fate of the soul than there had been at the beginning, laying the foundations for high medieval theological discussions and developments.

This chapter not only explores the efflorescence of ‘new’ visions that occurred, especially, but not only, in the British Isles, during the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, it also traces the reproduction of early medieval visions too, arguing that the slow evolution of ‘purgatory’ from early medieval origins facilitated their continued use. Change is nonetheless to be found in this period. There was renewed sensitivity to old anxieties about the authenticity of visions. There was a fresh flux of debate about conceptualisations of the afterlife that were so strongly material. And, most especially, new theological and pastoral priorities were imprinted on vision-texts, which were subtly reshaped by shifting thinking about penitence and prayer. The chapter examines some of the most ‘popular’ visions, measured in terms of manuscript circulation, but it also reconstructs something of the range of visionary experiences too, taking into account narratives that were little attended in their day.

One of the great Reformation debates during Shakespeare’s lifetime focused on the nature of “repentance” as represented in the Bible. The Biblical concept embraced the idea of a turn away from error and a return to righteousness (mostly as interpreted in later translations of the Hebrew Testament) and the idea of an interior change of mind or revision of one’s attitude toward patterns of behavior (mostly in the Christian Testament likewise as interpreted in later translations). Shakespeare dramatized these ideas in histories, comedies, tragedies, and romances throughout his career. This essay focuses on the dynamics of repentance in King Lear, where turning away and changes of mind engage with competing – but also sometimes complementing and mutually reinforcing – claims of ancient pagan Stoicism and Epicureanism in regard to fate, destiny, free will, and random change.