hurch to church to see the elevated Host as often as possible, since they assumed that the more Elevations you saw, the more grace you would acquire. At the end of the twelfth century, stories began to circulate of miracles that had occurred at the moment of Elevation -- people had seen visions, the Host shone like the sun, a tiny child had appeared in the priest's hands, and so forth. In some congregations the majority of the faithful waited for the ringing of the sance-bell, which signaled the approaching consecration, before they even deigned to enter the church, and then, as soon as the Elevation was concluded rushed out again as quickly as they had come in. People started lawsuits to ensure that they obtained pews which provided a favourable view of the altar, and some priests even took bribes to protract the Elevation. (Harris 75)To address this growing problem, in 1264, Pope Urban IV suggested a new religious celebration that would bring the consecrated host out into the streets so that those who wished to gaze and meditate upon it could have their fill without disrupting the other business of the mass. This joyful celebration, which began to establish itself about 50 years later, served as an important counterpoint to the medieval obsession with the sinful state of fallen humanity; it was an opportunity for the "good Christian" to reflect upon the promises of Christ, not merely upon the consequences of human sin. The Mass, in Urban's words, should be a "glorious act of remembrance, which fills the minds of the faithful with joy at their salvation and mingles their tears with an outburst of reverend jubilation."
Medieval drama served as a religious outlet; and, in an age when most people were illiterate, took an important place alongside stained glass windows and statues in spreading the Christian message to the general public. For instance, the play depicting the birth of Christ includes a long monologue delivered by a learned man directly to the audience-- it is a sermon explaining the significance of Ol