The fourfold sense--literal, allegorical (typological), tropological, anagogical--utterly dominated orthodox biblical interpretation in the Latin Middle Ages. The literal sense quietly gained ground only over the course of the fifteenth century. I suspect what you're thinking of is actually the allegorical interpretation of the liturgy. That's what got Agobard of Lyon to go all Athanasius-at-Nicaea at the Synod of Quiercy, in 838.

In the years leading up to it, the sometime bishop of Trier and Lyon, Amalarius, had been a major contributor to the liturgical streamlining and renewal strand of Carolinian reforms. "The liturgy" in (Catholic) Christianity is religious services, most prominently Mass (you might have heard "the Liturgy of the Word"; "the Liturgy of the Eucharist"?) and the prayers of the Divine Office (Prime, None, Vespers...). One of Amalarius's key contributions was a corpus of liturgical commentaries. That is, explaining the purpose/meaning of the various texts of the liturgies in their liturgical form, for the people chanting that liturgy, along with various ritual actions and ceremonial objects.

Quite reasonably translating from the overwhelming use of scripture to form liturgical texts, especially the Psalter, Amalarius applied the contemporary mode of biblical interpretation to the liturgy. He honed in on the tropological or moral meanings of ritual actions related to Pentecos; he especially focused on the allegorical sense that expands biblical texts into what they say about all of salvation history--whether that's the decaying ages after Christ, or Hebrew Bible figures and events presaging Christ and event in Christ's life (typology). For example, a series of twelve psalms sung should point the chanter to the 12 Old Testament patriarchs. The priest "breaking the bread" of the Eucharist into three pieces recalls to the mind the nature of Christ's human body. &c.

In essence, Amalarius's allegorical interpretation of the liturgy turned on the principle that every element of Christian worship "signified"--that is, it all held divinely-imbued meaning.

Amalarius had a superstar mentor in Alcuin of York; a superstar career as bishop and diplomat thanks to his superstar then-patron Charlemagne; and an ongoingly good relationship with subsequent emperor Louis the Pious. So much so, in fact, that when the Bishop of Lyon made a critical error in supporting the emperor's sons in their rebellion, Louis plucked that bishop right out of his cathedra and installed Amalarius in his place in 833.

Well, as you can imagine, this state of affairs did not please the former bishop, Agobard--and he had powerful backing of his own. At the Synod of Quiercy in 838, he vindictively got the delegates to declare Amalarius's writings heretical. Agobard's method was to attack the allegorical interpretation of the liturgy. He argued that the liturgy, unlike scripture, was partially the result of human thought and creation, not just divine-through-humans.

The synod ultimately sided with Agobard, although we're not really sure how things went down because the only source is so hostile to Amalarius. Events of earlier decades suggest that Amalarius preferred theology to politics, so perhaps he wasn't as skilled at the latter or was happier losing so he could just go back and write.

Because go back and write he sure did. The Liber officialis, his most important and influential work, didn't get its third and final edition until 840! And condemnation or not, both Amalarius's works and his method passed down into the methodologies of subsequent generations of liturgical commentators, and the edification of subsequent generations of monks and priests.