In 1532, a former justice of the peace (William Tracy) had his dead body exhumed & burned by the church; his will, declared heretical. He didn't leave any property to the church and believed in salvation "by God's grace". What effect did "justification by faith" have on the death culture of England?

by jbdyer
amandycat

There's a lot to unpack here, because in lots of ways 'death culture' is just... culture in this period. Beliefs about death have far-reaching cultural impacts. This answer will focus on tombs and epitaphs because that's my jam, but feel free to ask me if there's anything else you'd like to see addressed. I'll also add the caveat that the period I know the most about begins during Queen Elizabeth's reign, so my answer is coloured by this. Reformation was not a linear process, and those early years of the Reformation in England when William Tracy passed away are theologically messy - by the time we get to the kind of material culture I'm working with, a lot of the beliefs about the dead were beginning to coalesce into a fairly agreed-upon set of principles.

Epitaphs

Justification by faith, or 'sola fide' is a difficult one to pick apart because even after the Reformation it still stays very tied to the doctrine it is most commonly seen as working against, 'justification by works'. Reformed doctrine claims that redemption comes through faith, but there is also an expectation that one of the effects of a strong faith will be good works. Some late medieval/early renaissance epitaphs that are popular in printed collections as well as manuscript demonstrate this focus on works, for example:

Citizens of London call to your remembrance
the famous Iohn Rainwell sometime your maior,
of the staple of Callis, so was his chance
here lieth now his corps, his soule bright & faire
is taken to heauens blisse, thereof is no dispaire
his acts beare witnis, by matters of recorde
how charitable he was, & of what accorde
no man hath bin so beneficiall as hee
vnto the Citie in giuing liberalitie./ (Camridge University Library, MS Add 9221, fol98r)

Rainwell died in 1445 and this is a pretty typical epitaph wherein his salvation is directly tied to the charitable works undertaken in his home city.

Compare for example, an epitaph for one Lady Frevile who died in 1630. The poet ('Mister Robert Burrell, minister of Gaynford') tells us 'Great was her wealth, great was her witt, her piety passed both' - emphasising Frevile's piety over other concerns, as one might expect. Nonetheless, the poem continues:

The mother did good works begyn; the daughter she succeeded,
two patternes to posterity; let all behold & heed it.
Good works I call good works indeed; let showes & shadowes goe;
Obedience vnto God & man are they, or els I do not know:
If some saie Hospitality, the common good & poore,
then let him name, one like in these, I will not vrge it more: (BL Egerton 2877, fol106r).

Good works sit alongside faith here, with one being evidence of the other. Texts speaking so approvingly of justification by faith would have been radical at the time William Tracy died - but even in clearly 'reformed' texts, we still see comfort taken in evidence of works alongside faith. The relationship between these two tenets of faith remains muddy, and a hard and fast transition from 'works' to 'faith' doesn't take place.

Where we *do* see a big shift in memorial culture is in the suggestion that faith will be sufficient to go straight to heaven as Puragatory was dropped from orthodox doctrine as part of the Reformation. Pre-reformation epitaphs focusing on good works might also ask passers by to pray for the dead - an act of charity that would assist the dead in passing from purgatory to heaven. An epitaph for Steven Forster and his wife Agnes (d. 1458 and 1484 respectively) highlights Agnes' charitable works as a prison reformer, but also emphasises the need for prayers from the living:

Deuout soules that passe this way
for Stephen fforster late maior hartily pray
& dame Agnes his spouse, to God consecrate,
that of pitie this house made for Londoners in Ludgate
so that for lodging and water prisoners here nought pay
as their keepers place all answere at dreadfull doomesday (CUL Add MS 9221, fol98r)

Agnes Forster is well worth an essay in her own right, but for our purposes, what's important is that combined emphasis on good works and the need for prayer.

By comparison, here's an extremely popular epitaph that appeared on a grave, and circulated in manuscript in the 1620s:

Twyce twelue yeares not full told, a weary breath
I haue exchanged for a wished death.
my Course was short, the longer is my rest,
God takes them soonest whom he loueth best!
For he that’s borne today & dyes tomorrow,
Looseth some dayes of mirth, but month’s of sorrow./ (CUL Add 4138, fol23r)

Here we have the dead subject speaking us to tell us that they are glad to have died because they have been taken directly to heaven, having lived a short but faithful life, with no emphasis on good works at all. Faithfulness and an anticipation of the afterlife are all that is required.

These 'happy dead' epitaphs become more and more common as the living are reminded that they should celebrate the passing of the faithful dead. Thomas Becon's famous ars moriendi ('the art of dying'), 'The Sycke Mans Salue' (1558) tells us that ‘I think that at the burials of the faithfull, there shuld rather be ioy & gladnes, then mourning and sadnes, rather pleasant songes of thankesgeuing: then lamentable and doleful diriges’. The culture of death here has shifted from works to faith, and as a consequence, the response expected from the living is qualitatively different, demanding that the fellow-faithful be happy at their co-religionist's passing.