Towards the end of the eighth century, Carolingian leaders – smarting from their failed attempts to convert the Saxons – sought to refine their tactics for the Christianisation of the recently conquered Avars in central Europe.Footnote ¹ One of the leading figures in the discussion, Alcuin of York, proposed a model drawn from Augustine, specifically from De catechizandis rudibus.Footnote ² Alcuin showed himself to be a shrewd thinker and flexible enough to shift missionary gears in light of the Saxon débâcle. His plan for catechising the Avars shows a characteristically Carolingian innovative deference to the Fathers of the Church: a conscious and clever capacity to recast the language and ideas of the Fathers of the Church into new moulds more directly applicable to the world of the late eighth century.Footnote ³ This attitude permitted Carolingians to depict themselves as standing in continuity with an inherited Christian tradition, while at the same time allowing for the seemingly dramatic innovation that they found necessary to address contemporary issues. Attention to Alcuin's missionary strategy yields two fruits. It illumines an influential and enduring idea in Carolingian missionary theory: an emphasis on the soul and the afterlife. More generally, it contributes to understanding of Carolingian intellectual methodology: the intricacies of innovative deference.

This paper will proceed in four steps: first, a brief explanation of Augustine's model of catechesis in De catechizandis rudibus, and a demonstration of how his model survived in eighth-century ideas of mission; second, how and why Alcuin's plan for catechesis differed substantially from that of his predecessors, as well as his reasons for innovation; third, the roots of Alcuin's innovative idea, emphasising that his exercise displays deep continuity with a wider Christian tradition resting on the example of Augustine and the strategy of the celebrated Anglo-Saxon monk, Bede; and finally it will be shown that the formula proposed by Alcuin made an immediate and lasting impact on Carolingian approaches to the idea of conversion throughout the ninth century.

Around the year 400 Augustine composed De catechizandis rudibus in response to a request from Deogratias, a deacon of the important north-African city of Carthage, who enquired about the means of instructing beginners in the faith.Footnote ⁴ The treatise has two parts. First, Augustine offers a theory of catechesis. Second, he provides two model sermons based on that theory, one long and one short. After introductory remarks to Deogratias on the difficulty of doing justice to the task of catechising, Augustine outlines two elements of effective instruction: the narration and the exhortation. The narration consists of a summary treatment of biblical history from the creation through the life of Jesus to the era of the Church. Augustine explains that the narration ‘is complete when the instruction delivered to the newcomer begins from the scriptural verse, “In the beginning God made heaven and earth”, and continues down to the present period of the church's history’.Footnote ⁵ Augustine insists that the instructor must accent the idea of love throughout the narration. Concerning the incarnation, for example, he argues, ‘now what stronger reason could there be for the Lord's coming than that God intended to reveal his love among us and prove it with great force?’Footnote ⁶ The first element of catechising for Augustine is the telling of a story whose meaning should be subtly accented throughout, but whose point – love – becomes clear through careful development.

Following the narration the teacher ought to place an exhortation, by which Augustine means a consideration of morality in light of the last things, death and the afterlife:

The exhortation makes explicit the eternal stakes of Christianity and sets those stakes on the firm foundation of the narration. The story of the Church moves toward and culminates in eternal reward for the good and everlasting damnation for the bad.

Augustine's approach to catechesis became an influential and enduring model for early medieval theories of conversion.Footnote ⁸ For example, in the late sixth century Martin of Braga, in De correctione rusticorum, absorbs Augustine's advice while crafting his own approach to Christianisation in Visigothic Spain.Footnote ⁹ Written in response to Bishop Polemius of Astorga's request for advice on dealing with pagan superstitions observed by people in his diocese, the work presents a short history of salvation from creation, through the incarnation, and to the final judgement. Analyses of two eighth-century missionary strategies for the continent testify to the longevity of Augustine's catechetical paradigm and establish a context for the reorientation suggested by Alcuin. The first example is advice offered by Daniel, bishop of Winchester, in a brief letter to the Anglo-Saxon missionary, Boniface.Footnote ¹⁰ The second is a lengthy sermon on catechesis attributed to Pirmin, known alternatively as the Dicta Pirmini or the Scarapsus.Footnote ¹¹

Shortly before his death in 745, Daniel wrote a letter to Boniface concerning missionary strategy for the conversion of pagans.Footnote ¹² In content, but not execution, Daniel follows the advice given by Augustine to Deogratias. Whereas Augustine taught that creation should be the beginning of a narration leading up to the Christian era, Daniel recommends treating creation as a means of introducing Christianity. Subsequent salvation history should be held in reserve as a secondary tactic. Daniel warns that when engaging the pagans in debate, Boniface ought not to let himself be drawn into disputes over the pagan gods and their origins. Rather, he should turn the discussion to the topic of creation itself, first of the pagan gods and then of the world. Daniel writes that ‘when they have been compelled to learn that their gods had a beginning since some were begotten by others, they must be asked in the same way whether they believe that the world had a beginning or was always in existence without a beginning?’Footnote ¹³

If a treatment of creation does not engage the pagans, Daniel continues, then Boniface ought to turn to a history which accents the role of God. Specifically, the bishop of Winchester recommends a history of the lawful worship of God which leads to life and union with God in the Christian religion. Like Augustine, Daniel suggests taking a historical approach in his explanation of Christianity. However, unlike Augustine's accent on charity in history, Daniel privileges lawfulness in worship. His legal analysis concludes that divine reward is a consequence of a right relationship with God:

Daniel's advice to Boniface conveys key Augustinian ideas. First, it preserves the idea that catechesis ought to begin at the beginning, that is, with creation. Second, it conveys Augustine's notion that historical narrative is useful in catechesis. Third, it concludes with an emphasis on the eternal reward that comes from Christianity. Daniel also offers two wrinkles to Augustine's programme. First, he suggests that a historical narrative become a secondary strategy. A discussion of creation in itself, not as a prelude to a longer history, should provide the beginning of Christian formation. Second, instead of an accent on charity as one considers the relationship of God to man, Daniel recommends focusing on lawfulness.

A second eighth-century text displays similar fidelity to Augustine's chronological order of catechesis. The Dicta Pirmini closely follows the advice of Augustine in the De catechizandis rudibus: a narrative followed by an exhortation.Footnote ¹⁵ After a brief introduction, the narrative starts exactly where Augustine suggested, with the creation account from Genesis. Pirmin's sermon revolves around right belief, and the implications of that belief for one's disposition toward God:

Vices and sins, for Pirmin, derive from deficiencies in recognising who God is and what he deserves. In the story of the archangel, the message is that wrong belief in God led to a lack of humility and ultimately to dire consequences. The archangel did not acknowledge God as his creator, did not give God honour while overemphasising his own glory and finally was expelled from heaven. Pirmin's narrative, like Augustine's, drives from creation toward judgement. But unlike Augustine the engine of the narrative is right belief instead of charity.

Pirmin continues his analysis of belief through a series of brief vignettes by means of which he instructs his audience about God and warns it about the dangers of wrong belief. He considers the creation and fall of man, Noah and the flood, and Moses and the law. Then he arrives at the life of Jesus. In a much more detailed fashion, Pirmin covers Jesus' birth, the baptism in the Jordan, the summoning of the Apostles, and the transmission of the Lord's Prayer. He identifies miracles wrought by Jesus and the temptation by the devil before delivering a passion narrative, which focuses on the last supper, Judas's betrayal and the crucifixion. Next, he treats the descent into hell, the resurrection and the ascension. Finally, he covers Pentecost and the example of Simon Magus. In every instance Pirmin stresses either the importance of right belief in God or the dangerous consequences of wrong belief.

A crucial part of Pirmin's message is a detailed description of the baptismal ceremony and a discussion of what it means to be Christian. This section bridges the narration and the exhortation, providing a focused recapitulation of the tenets of the Christian faith. For example, the creed appears in its entirety twice in the short span of the middle part of this text. First, at the Pentecost, each of the Apostles is credited with an article of the creed:

Second, in a description of the baptismal ceremony, Pirmin relates how assent to individual articles of the creed was elicited from each catechumen prior to baptism:

Repetition of the creed in such a short section hammers home to the reader how essential is right belief in God. The chronological order of the creed mirrors that of catechetical narration, moving from creation to eternal life. Further, the dual formats of the creed underscore the significance of right belief. Pirmin first emphasises the divine origin of the creed in the holy spirit through the mouths of the Apostles. Then he stresses human acknowledgement of the creed through its presentation in a question-and-answer format.

After the narration, Pirmin begins an exhortation which consumes about two-thirds of the total length of the sermon. Primarily, it consists of an extensive treatment of vices. Pirmin appends to each prohibition passages from Scripture which proscribe that specific vice. After a treatment of perjury, for example, Pirmin cites both a Gospel and an Epistle in support: ‘Let no one perjure, because the Lord says: “You shall not perjure yourselves, but you shall perform your oaths to the Lord [Matthew v.33].” And the Apostle: “Do not swear, neither by heaven, nor by earth, not by any other oath [James v.12)”.’Footnote ¹⁹

Like De catechizandis rudibus, the Dicta Pirmini culminate with a discussion of the end times, with an explanation of the good receiving their eternal reward and the evil descending to eternal punishment. This topic is integrated into the exhortation both in design, by featuring virtues and vices, and in form, by citing biblical proof texts for each assertion. For example, Pirmin writes that at the time of judgement ‘who was sorry for temporal injuries and worldly cares is cheerful and joyful for the eternal goods and promises, because in the Gospel the Lord says: “Blessed are you, when men hate you and when they shall separate you and reproach you and cast out your name as evil because of the Son of Man. Be glad in that day and rejoice. For behold, your reward is great in heaven [Luke vi.22–3].”’Footnote ²⁰ The Dicta Pirmini very closely reflect Augustine's catechetical theory. Pirmin begins with creation. He preserves Augustine's form of using first historical narrative and then a moral exhortation. Finally, he concludes with a discussion of the last things, when a Christian will receive reward or punishment. The work also departs from Augustine at points, most notably with regard to its emphasis. Whereas Augustine extolled charity as the key idea for formation, Pirmin concentrates on right belief as the foundation of a good relationship with God.

Fundamentally, Augustine's model of catechesis endured through the works of Daniel of Winchester and Pirmin. Catechesis ought to begin with creation and conclude with eternal reward or punishment. Along the way space ought to be provided for a narrative approach to the superiority of the Christian faith. A comparison of tactics, on the other hand, reveals some elasticity in both application and in emphasis. Daniel, for example, adjusts application. He de-prioritises the narrative, recommending it to Boniface as a secondary option. Both Daniel and Pirmin, moreover, alter Augustine's thematic emphasis. They turn from charity toward lawful worship and right belief respectively for engines powering their catechesis.

At the end of the eighth century Alcuin adapted this tradition of catechetical reflection with an eye toward the conversion of the recently conquered Avars of east-central Europe. His contribution to the tradition is to reverse and amplify the order and language of Augustine's work. He reverses the order by treating the last things first, and amplifies the language by adding explicit consideration of the soul and its immortality in the context of his discussion of eternal reward and punishment.Footnote ²¹ He did this because he was eager not to repeat with the Avars the blunders recently perpetrated among the Saxons, which led to widespread relapses into paganism combined with violent rebellions against Carolingian rule.Footnote ²² He identified a strategy which he believed to have potential for missionary success through persuasion instead of through coercion. Consequently, he set out a plan that he imagined would appeal to the Avars, not to the more literate urban audiences of Augustine's late antique North Africa.Footnote ²³

Probably during the late summer of 796, Alcuin sent a letter to the Charlemagne concerning the conversion of the Avars.Footnote ²⁴ He announced a strategy, which he claimed was based on Augustine's De catechizandis rudibus. He wrote ‘therefore, as I see it, in teaching a grown man, that order ought diligently to be preserved which blessed Augustine offered in his book entitled De catecizandis rudibus’.Footnote ²⁵ Alcuin wrote that Augustine instructed that catechumens first be taught about the immortality of the soul and then about the reward of the good and punishment of the damned. Footnote ²⁶ It is not unlikely that Alcuin was explicit with Charlemagne about his inspiration because of the king's well-known affinity for the North African doctor.Footnote ²⁷ Tellingly, during that same summer Alcuin wrote two other letters advocating his missionary strategy – to Megenfridus, the court chamberlain, and to Arn, the bishop of Salzburg – though neither of these letters mentions Augustine by name.Footnote ²⁸

Alcuin advocated a ‘soul first’ approach to catechesis in a number of other works in several genres, including letters, saints' Lives and theological treatises. Around 796, about the same time that he penned his letter to Charlemagne, Alcuin composed a Life of St Willibrord at the request of Bernhard, bishop of the high-profile metropolitan see of Sens. The Vita details the missionary efforts of an early Anglo-Saxon missionary to the continent.Footnote ²⁹ Alcuin wrote that Willibrord was summoned to stand before Radbod, the fearsome and violently anti-Christian king of the Frisians; he argued that ‘The object of your worship, O King, is not a god but a devil, and he holds you ensnared in rank falsehood in order that he may deliver your soul to eternal fire.’Footnote ³⁰ Willibrord's speech echoes the missionary policy set out by Alcuin in his letter to Charlemagne. The lesson begins with a statement about the afterlife, what happens to one's immortal soul. After a brief catechesis on God, Willibrord sums up his position by returning to moral behaviour and its consequences:

Alcuin supports his preference for conversion by persuasion with an example of persuasion.Footnote ³² A speech short, simple, and to the point: Willibrord treated the immortality of the soul, the reward of the good and the punishment of the damned. Naturally, the missionary's impassioned speech had the desired effect, leading to numerous converts.Footnote ³³ This episode is important for two reasons. First, the genre – hagiography – emphasises how important Alcuin found his idea. He not only delivered his missionary strategy as an instruction, but also imagined how it might look in practice. Second, that the addressee was the powerful metropolitan bishop of Sens underscores how widely Alcuin worked in advancing his idea among leading Carolingians.

Sometime after 800 Alcuin composed a treatise on the soul addressed to Eulalia, a pseudonym for Gundrada, the sister of Adalhard of Corbie.Footnote ³⁴ While the body of the work deals with questions about the existence, nature and knowledge of the soul, the preface makes clear how Alcuin's concern for the immortality of the soul helps him to frame a discussion about the goals of human life more generally.Footnote ³⁵ Alcuin's understanding of the soul grounds his missionary theory, which explains why he hangs his discussion of the last things on a discussion of the immortal soul. He states that ‘nothing in this mortal life is more important for man to know than God and his own soul’.Footnote ³⁶ The soul is of decisive importance for Alcuin because love for God resides there: ‘The love of this good [God], however, can exist only in the soul.’Footnote ³⁷ To emphasise his point Alcuin identifies this function as the fundamental reason for the soul: ‘In fact the supreme virtue of the soul is to love that good in which, from which, and through which alone whatever good there is in any creature is good.’Footnote ³⁸ Moreover, the soul governs the body's actions, from a moral standpoint, in light of the soul's purpose: ‘It befits the soul to hold sway and as if from a throne of royal power to command what, through what, when, where, and how it shall do with the body, and to ponder carefully what it shall bid each member do and what may suit each in the wants of its own nature.’Footnote ³⁹ Knowledge of the immortal soul is of the utmost importance for a Christian because it ought to love God and direct the body to good works. Discussion of the soul, for Alcuin, is a prerequisite for a discussion of the last things, especially the eternal reward or punishment meted out according to one's deeds.

Alcuin's iteration of Christian catechesis was not haphazard. His alteration of Augustine, foregrounding the immortal soul and the last things at the expense of creation, resulted from careful consideration of the environment in which he found himself. In the wake of the disastrous Saxon policy of coercive conversion, Alcuin vigorously advocated a policy of conversion by persuasion. In order to support this policy, he developed an approach to conversion which he believed created the greatest chance for a successful conversion of the Avars. He outlined his plan in the three mission letters of 796. He dramatised it in the Life of Willibrord, cheekily suggesting that it may have already borne fruit among the Frisians. And, he reminded readers of the fundamental nature of his concern for the soul in his preface to De ratione animae. Through letters, saints' Lives, and treatises, Alcuin built his case for conversion based on the soul and its everlasting reward or punishment.

Alcuin's inspiration for tinkering with Augustine did not arise ex nihilo. Upon close investigation, his innovative reorganisation of Augustine's catechetical programme stands in deep continuity with both Augustine and Bede. The African doctor and Alcuin's own celebrated Anglo-Saxon predecessor both provided examples of how to initiate Christian catechesis with a discussion of the afterlife.

While discussion of the last things falls at the very end of Augustine's theoretical discussion, it appears at the beginning of his model sermons. Augustine quite pointedly recommends consideration of the last things in the introductions to both the long and the short forms of his sermon. Alcuin's reordering of Augustine may be more an instance of Alcuin's privileging of Augustine's deeds over Augustine's words.Footnote ⁴⁰ In the introduction to his long sermon, Augustine remarks that ‘he who wishes to become a Christian for the sake of everlasting blessedness and perpetual rest, which is promised to the saints as their future portion after this life, that he may not go into eternal fire with the devil, but may enter with Christ into His eternal kingdom, he is a Christian indeed’.Footnote ⁴¹ Similarly, in the introduction to his short sermon, Augustine writes ‘Truly, brother, great and true is the blessedness which is promised to the saints in the world to come. Yes, all visible things pass away, and all the pride of this life and the concupiscence of the flesh and the concupiscence of the eye will perish.’Footnote ⁴²

Alcuin was likely also inspired to accent the immortal soul by the example given by Bede, who carefully chronicled the conversion of Anglo-Saxon kings in his monumental Ecclesiastical history of the English people. Alcuin's familiarity with Bede stemmed from his education in England. He was trained at the famous school of York, established by Bede's pupil, Egbert.Footnote ⁴³ Egbert was succeeded by Alcuin's own teacher, Archbishop Aelberht. Furthermore, there was a copy of Bede's work in Charlemagne's court library by the end of the eighth century.Footnote ⁴⁴ In a well-known and much celebrated passage from bk ii of the Ecclesiastical history, Paulinus, archbishop of York, works to convert Edwin, king of Northumbria. The episode is striking not only because it contains the elements later found in Alcuin's programme, but also because Bede singles out and emphasises those same elements. Discussion of the immortal soul triggers Paulinus' successful conversion of Northumbria. In speaking to the king, Paulinus refers to a sign from God and exhorts the king: ‘If from henceforth you are willing to follow His will which is made known to you through me, He will also rescue you from the everlasting torments of the wicked and make you a partaker with Him of His eternal kingdom in heaven.’Footnote ⁴⁵ This exhortation, like many other conversion episodes in Bede, turns on the idea of immortality and an accompanying reward or punishment determined by moral behaviour.

In the very next section Bede clarifies and reiterates what about this catechetical message was so persuasive to pagan audiences. Bede recounts how Edwin was moved by Paulinus' preaching, but still wished to consult with his advisors. It was during this conference that Edwin's chief advisor offered one of the most celebrated analogies in the Ecclesiastical history, an analogy which supports Paulinus' position and clarifies why consideration of the immortal soul was so compelling:

The response of the counsellor emphasises Bede's perspective. Namely, that the idea of an immortal soul and its existence beyond this life captured the imagination of the pagan king and his retinue. This realisation, in turn, Bede sees as keying interest in the moral precepts of Christianity. This logic is the same as that offered by Alcuin through the mouth of the missionary Willibrord and in the introduction to his work on the soul.

Alcuin's decision to highlight the immortal soul and the eternal implications of the moral life in efforts at Christian conversion characterises Carolingian approaches to conversion into the ninth century. Two examples typify the impact of Alcuin's contribution: a missionary treatise from Bavaria and Ratramnus of Corbie's response to the missionary Anskar concerning dog-headed people. Alcuin's suggestion is taken most literally and developed by at least one Carolingian author, whose work is preserved in an early ninth-century manuscript, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Clm.14410. Written during the first third of the ninth century somewhere in Bavaria, or perhaps northern Italy, the manuscript was created in a time and at a place important for the Christian mission to the Avars.Footnote ⁴⁷ Its 102 folia contain nine items, and seem built around the idea of catechesis:Footnote ⁴⁸ the so-called Epistle-Homilary of Ps.-Bede;Footnote ⁴⁹ two sermons on vices;Footnote ⁵⁰ fifteen chapters from a Bavarian council held during the 740s;Footnote ⁵¹ a cycle of six sermons titled ‘Ratio de catechizandis rudibus’;Footnote ⁵² a sermon on the eight vices attributed to Serapion;Footnote ⁵³ a sermon on peace and concord; Maxentius of Aquileia's response to Charlemagne's questionnaire of 811/812 on baptism;Footnote ⁵⁴ definitions of the terminology of baptism drawn from Isidore of Seville;Footnote ⁵⁵ and an anonymous response related to Charlemagne's questionnaire.Footnote ⁵⁶

Among the many interesting items gathered together in the manuscript, the fourth item – six catechetical sermons grouped under the title ‘Ratio de cathecizandis rudibus’ – stand out as directly dependent on Alcuin's catechetical work. These sermons are organised around the themes identified by Alcuin, offering catechesis on the immortality of the soul and simple moral exhortation, which is always tied back to the fate of the soul. ‘And through everything he [the catechumen] ought to be examined most carefully, and instructed in all ways about the immortality of his soul.’Footnote ⁵⁷ The first sermon begins with the importance of establishing knowledge of the immortal soul, and states that each soul will be judged on the basis of moral behaviour during earthly life. The author of this instruction then carefully elaborates on the meaning and significance of the soul. Consideration of the soul is important for each Christian, the author explains, ‘because he is not able to die, as do other animals with a body and a soul, but because he has an immortal soul in his body, which after this life is to have a reward for its works on account of things he does here in his body’.Footnote ⁵⁸ Because the human soul is immortal, it will have an afterlife either of reward or of punishment. The sermon echoes the thoughts expressed by Alcuin through Willibrord's sermon and in his prefatory letter to Eulalia.

The instruction continues to amplify the advice of Alcuin as it makes clear how a soul arrives at either eternal damnation or eternal joy. On the one hand, each one ‘if not [seeking hard work – erumnas] in this life, having cheated certain things [hard work] in this life, does not further deserve rest, but equally with the devil whom he served, will receive eternal punishments, beyond which he will never be able to escape’.Footnote ⁵⁹ On the other hand, it is ‘by the words of the Lord he should devote himself to the faith, to adhere to and obey the commands of his Lord, so that he is worthy equally with him and with all his holy angels and his elect to remain in eternal glory and joy’.Footnote ⁶⁰ Evil works lead to an afterlife of unending punishments. Good works lead to an afterlife filled with joy and glory. The instruction then continues with sections outlining, in concrete detail, how one ought to obey the laws of God, how one ought to reject idolatry, and how one ought to worship God. Embedded in each of these sections, and securely connecting them to the initial idea, are formulaic reminders of the eternal consequences of right behaviour.

A second example of the influence of Alcuin's missionary theory appears in the middle of the ninth century, when a theoretical question of mission turns on the very same idea of the immortal soul and its afterlife. Sometime before 865 Ratramnus of Corbie wrote a letter in response to a question posed by the celebrated missionary priest and monk, Rimbert, who wondered whether cynocephs were human or whether they had the souls of beasts.Footnote ⁶¹ While the letter does not cite Alcuin, Ratramnus certainly had access to Alcuin's writings, including Alcuin's thoughts on baptism.Footnote ⁶² The elements of Ratramnus' argument are the very same as those marshalled by Alcuin in his discussion of conversion. The monk of Corbie answers the question through an analysis of the story of St Christopher the cynoceph, identifying two salient issues. First, Ratramnus focuses on the exemplary moral action of St Christopher which led to martyrdom.: ‘He [Christopher] was known to be of the race of men, whose life and martyrdom certainly point out his gleaming virtues.’Footnote ⁶³ Second, Ratramnus singles out Christopher's miraculous reception of baptism: ‘For it is believed also that he [Christopher] divinely gained the sacrament of baptism, with the mystery pouring out over him from clouds, just as the little book itself [Christopher's life] witnesses.’Footnote ⁶⁴ On this basis Ratramnus concludes that St Christopher, and by extension other cynocephs, must have souls: ‘Hence I still agree that he [St Christopher] had a human and rational soul and not that of a calf or of a serpent.’Footnote ⁶⁵ Ratramnus' reasoning about the cynocephs works backward through the chain wrought by Alcuin. Whereas Alcuin talked about the immortality of the soul, which required baptism to live a good life and reach eternal reward, Ratramnus suggests that because Christopher had a holy end and had lived a virtuous life marked by baptism, he must have had a human soul. Ratramnus' position is all the more noteworthy because it diverges from earlier Christian analyses. In the eighth century, Aethicus Ister had identified cynocephs with the abominations mentioned in Leviticus.Footnote ⁶⁶ Most tellingly, Ratramnus contradicts the explicit opinion of Isidore, a weighty authority in ninth-century Europe.Footnote ⁶⁷ In recounting the example of St Christopher, Ratramnus acknowledges Isidore's opinion concerning monstrous races, including cynocephs, and dismisses it.Footnote ⁶⁸

The evolution of missionary strategy under the Carolingians can thus be summarised. The catechetical model developed by Augustine of Hippo in the fourth century persisted in the visions of eighth-century religious leaders such as Daniel of Winchester and Pirmin. Catechesis should begin with creation and end with the last things, proceeding along a chronological narrative of salvation history. At the end of the eighth century Alcuin of York developed a catechetical model specifically for the Avar mission that reversed or at least re-conceived Augustine's effort. Alcuin decided to begin Christian instruction with a treatment of the immortal soul and the last things. Alcuin's innovation was itself actually in profound continuity not only with Augustine's example but also with that of Bede. Augustine prefaces his example sermon with the soul and final judgement, while Bede records how effective consideration of the afterlife is in converting the early Anglo-Saxons. Alcuin's idea then influenced other Carolingian thinkers, showing up prominently in an early ninth-century missionary handbook and more subtly in a mid-ninth century missionary response from the Frankish heartlands.

In conclusion, a detailed study of Alcuin's approach to Augustine's De catechizandis rudibus contributes to understanding of Carolingian Europe on at least two levels. First, on a general level, it facilitates a broader understanding of Carolingian intellectual methodology. A study of Alcuin's missionary catechesis highlights his innovative deference. He was able to take a received tradition on Christian formation and reorganise the individual elements in a new manner, thus balancing a need for new ideas with a respect for continuity with tradition. By moving a discussion of the last things from the end of his programme to the beginning, he preserved the building blocks of an early fifth-century Augustinian theory, while establishing a new paradigm which he felt more likely to be successful in the late eighth-century Frankish world. Second, on a more specific level, appreciation of the genesis and transmission of a Carolingian missionary idea by a central Carolingian intellectual is enhanced by evaluating its distinctiveness in the light of alternative eighth-century ideas and by tracking its development and transmission across a variety of genres into the ninth century. Not only does Alcuin offer a sophisticated and compelling argument for conversion by persuasion, he also identifies a question that he felt most likely to gain traction with an early medieval audience: what happens to me when I die?