Cassian's Conferences

Scriptural Interpretation and the Monastic Ideal

Christopher J. Kelly

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781317169536
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Christianity

This book explores Cassian's use of scripture in the Conferences, especially its biblical models to convey his understanding of the desert ideal to the monastic communities of Gaul. Cassian intended the scriptures and, implicitly, the Conferences to be the voices of authority and orthodoxy in the Gallic environment. He interprets familiar biblical characters in unfamiliar ways that exemplify his ideal. By imitating their actions the monk enters a seamless lineage of authority stretching back to Abraham. This book demonstrates how the scriptures functioned as a dynamic force in the lives of Christian monks in the fourth and fifth centuries, emphasizes the importance of Cassian in the development of the western monastic tradition, and offers an alternative to the sometimes problematic descriptions of patristic exegesis as "allegory" or "typology". Cassian has been described as little more than a provider of information about Egyptian monasticism, but a careful reading of his work reveals a sophisticated agenda to define and institutionalize orthodox monasticism in the Latin West.

Chapter 1
Cassian and the Conferences

A Question of Realized Meaning

For the Church Fathers the texts that eventually would comprise the canon of sacred scripture stood as a rich resource from which a vast array of interpretations could be made. To be sure, I expect that anyone at least peripherally familiar with patristic exegesis has had a moment of pause when confronted by a particularly unusual reading of a biblical verse. Seeming contradictions and drastic variations in interpretation may be frustrating (or fascinating) to modern readers, but they draw attention to one of the most important characteristics of early Christian exegesis. The process of reading the scriptures was primarily a spiritual exercise. The Church Fathers committed themselves to a thorough engagement with the texts in and of themselves, without considering that they acquired meaning because they pointed to some reality outside of themselves.1 Their exegesis did not rely on some exterior reference point to bring clarity. Instead, the scriptures were approached as a totality, a unified whole that made sense on its own terms. The key to understanding them was the conviction that Jesus Christ lay at their center. Ultimately, the entirety of the scriptures communicated the person, mission, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

Jesus Christ was both the message and the means by which that message could be discerned. Familiarity with the savior bred familiarity with the text, and vice versa. As O’Keefe and Reno suggest,

For the fathers did not hold Jesus Christ as an inert truth; they believed that they could only dwell in him, and he in them, if they dwelled in his illuminating light. To read under his guidance was to dwell in his light; to interpret the mosaic of scripture was to catch a glimpse of his image.2

Faith in Jesus as the revealed word of God brought the scriptures into focus. It is the basis upon which the various themes, characters, images, and allusions fall into place and the true meaning of the text is made clear. But what does dwelling in the illuminating light of scripture mean in any practical sense? What did it mean to “catch a glimpse” of Jesus? To what extent could these goals be realized, how would one begin the attempt, and how could success be measured?

Then, as now, responses to these questions are not obvious. Traditionally, the history of exegesis has identified two dominant methodological approaches to biblical interpretation in Late Antique Christianity, each labeled according to the locale of the catechetical school that produced its prominent exponents. The “Alexandrian school” was represented by Origen and favored allegorical interpretation as integral to determining the “real” meaning of scriptural verse. In Antioch, fear of unbridled and fanciful explanations led men like Theodore of Mopsuestia to emphasize the importance of the historical sense of the text in the process of appropriating its intent. Recent scholarship has questioned the effectiveness of drawing sharp distinctions between Alexandria and Antioch, for each employed techniques of the other in practice and each considered the reality of Jesus as definitive cipher, but the questions generated by O’Keefe and Reno remain. Did patristic authors intend something metaphorical by dwelling in the light of the scriptures, or was there more to it than just characteristic image?

Topographically far removed from the urban environments of Alexandria and Antioch, communities of men in the deserts of Syria, Palestine, and Egypt in the third and fourth centuries gave rise to an ascetic movement that would produce the formal, disciplined institution of monasticism so recognizable in both the Latin West and the Greek East.3 Theirs was a unique role, withdrawal from the world in order to live what they considered to be the most authentic Christian life possible. The particulars of their circumstances conditioned their approaches to and understanding of sacred scripture. As a result, early Christian monasticism had its own variety of exegesis. As Jean Leclercq’s classic study The Love of Learning and the Desire for God suggests, within monastic circles the reading of scripture has always been closely linked with the basic observances of monastic life.4 Reading and meditation have always been important elements of the religious life, and the monk approached the text as the means of salvation. The personal dimension and immediate value of scriptural meditation within the Christian monastic tradition suggests a potentially fruitful avenue of investigation with regard to the practicality of scriptural exegesis.

It is for precisely this reason that an early fifth-century text on monastic instruction written by John Cassian uniquely responds to the disconnection between the characterization of patristic biblical interpretation and the experience of its application. For Cassian, engagement with the scriptures through reading, meditation, and, especially, imitation according to a monastic ideal had very real effects upon the monk’s body, mind, and soul. His Conferences is an exercise in patristic exegesis that affirms the possibility of the monk dwelling in the scriptures, and the scriptures in him, in the sense that the monk’s life becomes the hermeneutical medium for understanding the text.

John Cassian understood the monastic life to be an emulative process. One learned how to live as a monk by following the example of the more experienced. The novice made progress by observing the actions and heeding the advice or chastisement of those who had distinguished themselves by their commitment and accomplishment. Building on the pedagogical tradition of mimesis, or “imitation,” common in the philosophical and monastic circles of the East, Cassian’s Conferences employs a subtle use of biblical archetypes to express his vision of the monastic ideal. The result is an interpretive methodology that is primarily tropological and designed to complement the transformative effect of scriptural reading that Cassian and his contemporaries took for granted. Cassian’s mimetic exegesis of scripture was the primary medium for communicating his monastic ideal.

Because he was writing for the fledgling monastic movement of the Latin West, Cassian’s goal was to ensure that the ideals and practice of the Desert Fathers assume normative status. The surest way to accomplish this was to establish a line of authority originating in the sacred scriptures that was mediated through accomplished elders and exercised over novices. If the inexperienced were to learn from their masters, both were to look to biblical archetypes for Cassian’s monastic ideal. I use the term “archetype” to refer to those characters in the Hebrew Bible and New Testament whose lives and actions, aspirations and personalities are interpreted as epitomizing the goals and requirements of the monastic life. The term “monastic ideal” synthesizes those sets of assumptions that make up the goals and practices of anachoresis, or “withdrawal” from the world. In his use of scriptural models Cassian interpreted the eremitic standard of Egyptian monasticism for a western style that had little tradition of its own. The result is a monastic ideal the realization of which hinges upon the extent to which one is able to identify with and manifest the sacred text within one’s life.

Cassian makes use of scripture in the Conferences, especially its biblical models, to convey his understanding of the desert ideal to the monastic communities of Gaul. My fundamental intent here is to draw attention to Cassian as an exegete whose methodology demonstrates the immanence of scripture felt by patristic authors. Much has been written concerning the influence of the “four senses” (historical, allegorical, tropological, and anagogical) of scripture that Cassian identifies in Conference XIV, but analyses of Cassian’s own exegesis of the sacred text are lacking.5 Cassian offers us an opportunity to better understand how the scriptures were read and interpreted in Late Antiquity and, more specifically, within the monastic milieu. Not only were Cassian’s Institutes and Conferences meant to be guidebooks and inspirational sources for those seeking holiness, but they can also be read as an extended apology for the ascetic movement in an unsettled Gallic environment, an environment in which Cassian’s monasticism would have to gain the respect, if not the trust, of the Church hierarchy.6 His use of scripture in them is an example of how early Christian monks approached the text as a dynamic force in their lives. Cassian intended the scriptures, and, implicitly, his Conferences to be the voices of authority and “orthodoxy” in the Gallic environment. My use of the term “orthodoxy” is simply to denote an eastern form of monastic practice that had an established tradition. Cassian’s interpretive methodology is geared toward establishing the scriptures and the Conferences as what he calls the “sound of the watchman,” the strong, clear voice that offers security and warns of impending danger. Cassian draws the phrase from his recollection of Proverbs 11:15b. Neither the Septuagint nor the Vulgate, however, use the term “watchman.” In these versions Proverbs 15:11 reads “A wicked person does evil whenever he mingles with a righteous person, and he hates the sound of security.” Of course, in ancient times a watchman would stand as a symbol of vigilance and security, so Cassian’s interpretation does not do an injustice to the intent of the text. Indeed, his personification of the concept may be another example of his mimetic strategy.

The Bible and Early Monasticism

Contemporary scholarship in early Christian monasticism has become increasingly aware of the inadequacies of considering the subject to be a monolithic entity. The who, when, where, how, and why regarding the origins of Christian monastic life are complex questions not sufficiently addressed by stock answers. Numerous examples of preexisting ascetic sentiments that favored the spiritual world over the physical world preclude any notions that Christian monasticism developed sui generis. New Testament exhortation, various Gnostic and Manichean movements, the legacy of first century Essene communities, the desire for martyrdom, pagan ascetic traditions, and even attempts at tax evasion all contributed to the emergence of the monastic lifestyle.7 A multiplicity of intentions, charismatic leaders, and geographical locations implies varied interpretations of what we can identify as a “monastic ideal.” What did it mean to be a monk? What was one supposed to do? Again, answers to such questions are not obvious, but this is where early monastic literature can be informative. The biography of Antony of Egypt penned in the middle of the fourth century by Athanasius of Alexandria, for instance, was of singular importance. The Life of Antony was precedent-setting in that it catapulted Antony to biblical status and established a template for hagiography that was to be emulated for hundreds of years.

The Life of Antony is also instructive because it provides insight into what was considered fundamental for living the eremitic life. The text not only inspired others to become monks, but it also provided an ideal, a standard of measure towards which one could strive, at least with regard to the development of Egyptian monasticism. Of course, Antony was considered saintly not because he independently charted his own way, but because in his view and that of hagiographers he willingly participated in the unfolding of the divine plan of salvation. With this in mind, Athanasius molded him in the image of several biblical characters, including Elijah, Jacob, and Job. Such men were models from the past who manifested God’s will in their persons and their actions. This sort of heroic construction is indicative of the central influence scripture had on the development of a monastic ideal.

Pagan Stoic traditions and various Gnostic and Manichean philosophies had their parts to play, but early Christian monasticism was centered on the biblical text. The work of scholars such as Samuel Rubenson, Roger Bagnall, and Douglas Burton-Christie suggests a higher rate of literacy within the early monastic communities in Egypt than previously assumed.8 Without dwelling on any debate, it suffices to suggest that within each community there may well have been at least a few monks who could read and write. The question, though, is not a pressing one because the desert culture in which the movement developed can be described as one of “residual orality.”9 Its world was still in the process of moving from an oral culture to a written culture. As a result, scripture was never just words on papyrus; it was alive in the actions of hearing and speaking. One’s encounter with the sacred text was always dynamic.

Early Egyptian eremitic communities would gather at the weekly synaxis (assembly) to hear both the reading of scripture and the counsel of the elders. In each instance the spoken word shaped their experience and provided practical guidance. Both encounters were fonts of revelation, both resonated with authority. Sacred scripture oriented the lives of the first monks, and, what is more, the content of the interaction between monk and narrative was not theological speculation but practical application. Scripture was not something one read, but something one did. Two points bear noting. Firstly, the early monks engaged scripture as an active, authoritative force in their lives. It gave expression to their aspirations and guided their actions. Secondly, scripture and its interpretation were often mediated through an elder, or abba. This latter assertion has an important corollary: the monastic life was primarily an emulative process. One learned how to be a monk by following the example of others. An initial apprenticeship, whether formal or informal, was common. Within the coenobium, the community, more experienced monks had seniority, and their words carried great weight. The inexperienced learned by listening to the admonitions of the wise and by imitating their actions.

John Cassian is heir to this tradition. However, there were no abbas in Gaul to whom novices could turn for guidance. The example of Martin of Tours (d. 397) was not acceptable because his biography was too cluttered with stories of the miraculous to be practically beneficial. Martin had founded monasteries in Ligugé, Tours, and Marmoutier, but evidence seems to suggest that they may have been lacking in austerity and discipline.10 Instead, Cassian needed a way to transplant those masters nurtured and tried in the desert from Egypt to Marseille, Lyon, and Lérins. First and foremost, this could be accomplished by reading the scriptures, because they lay at the heart of the monastic endeavor. Additionally, though, the Conferences itself could take the place of the Desert Fathers; it could embody the wisdom and discipli...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Preface
• Acknowledgments
• 1 Cassian and the Conferences
• 2 Martha and Mary: Distraction and Discretion
• 3 Job: The Ambidextrous Hero
• 4 Abraham and Moses: Withdrawal and Obedience
• 5 Prophets, Psalms, and Proverbs: The Continuity of Experience
• Afterword: Transformative Knowledge and Experiential Transmission
• Appendix: Cassian’s Preface to the First Part
• Select Bibliography
• Index