Sometimes an idea is so compelling, a parallel so enticing, that it sweeps several fields of scholarship like the proverbial wildfire ... leaving a slightly crispy bit of undergrowth and a number of befuddled scholars in its path. It seems to me that the "Cynic hypothesis" (in its various forms) is an example of such a phenomenon.
I'm not a NT scholar, and as such the "Cynic Jesus" (as endorsed by Burton Mack, J.D. Crossan, and most notably F. Gerald Downing) is largely safe from my critique. [It nevertheless strikes me that Downing's criteria for spotting a Cynic Christian raises a number of concerns -- as when he argues that Cynics might include “other individuals who espouse a Cynic life-style, if some in the ancient world see them as such, even if others find more significant different facets of their views and allegiance” (Cynics and Christian Origins, p. 55). This definition rather suggests that anyone whose views bear a “family resemblance” with Cynicism “can be used to illustrate and document what seemed Cynic to near contemporaries in the ancient world” (Ibid.). For my money, Downing here comes very close to identifying Cynics the way a certain former U.S. Supreme Court Justice defined pornography – he knows one when he sees one. The usefulness of this criterion for judicial or academic purposes appears dubious. But I disgress.]
The field of Early Christian studies has, however, has not remained entirely free from brushes with Cynic-ism either. This realization struck me recently when spending a bit of quality time with Augustine's De Opere Monachorum. The putative recipients of this treatise are a group of Carthaginian monks who distinguish themselves, first by their avoidance of manual labor in favor of a "lilies of the field" lifestyle of begging and otherwise living off the community's good graces and, on the other hand, by their long hair. (Hair, apparently, is a consistently pressing issue in Carthage, ranging from the un-veiled flowing locks of third-century virgins to the -- still unveiled, still flowing -- locks of fifth century monks. That's a topic for another entry, however.)
De Opere Monachorum has received attention primarily from two camps of scholars -- those interested in tracing late antique attitudes towards work in general and manual labor in particular, and those preoccupied by the question of the monks' identity and origin. The latter question is nearer and dearer to my own heart (... and while I'm not in full agreement with him either, thus far Daniel Caner has proposed the most satisfying solution.) Another recent contribution by a serious and highly respectable (... not to mention: far more brilliant than yours truly ...) scholar, Kenneth Steinhauser, however, involves the identification of these monks with -- Christian Cynics.
Prof. Steinhauser begins his brief contribution with a thoughtful exposition of prior work on the De Opere Monachorum, including a review of previously raised hypotheses of the monks' identity. He furthermore identifies six key characteristics that emerge from Augustine's description. While not all of these characteristics fit the picture (... the in my view essential exegetical preference for gospel-sayings over Pauline dicta, for example, falls by the wayside ...), Steinhauser nevertheless asserts that "[t]he beatnik monks of Carthage are remarkably similar to the ancient Cynic philosophers." Steinhauser's argument here comes close to Downing's in his reliance upon phenotypical resemblances: "Cynics did not work. They wore long hair and a distinctive garb. They acquired their livelihood begging. They engaged in various self-debasing practices. They wandered about the countryside. They propagated their views in public. They were social critics. They formed a clique." etc.
While some of these points require a bit of qualification -- long hair was not, as Steinhauser later concedes, a universal feature of Cynic habitus, and the mention of "self-debasing practices" raises uncomfortable issues in light of the monks' emphasis on humiliation as quasi-penitential ... a distinctly non-Cynic take. The more serious problem, however, is Steinhauser's subsequent development of his argument by way of three "illustrations from antiquity." Steinhauser here draws upon Diogenes' "self-sufficiency and independence" -- arguably a parallel with Augustine's monks; Gregory Nazianzen's encomium (an later bitter chastising) of Maximus as a Cynic; and the emperor Julian's (rather unflattering) analogy between monks and Cynics.
On the whole, these similarities fall rather short of being "sufficient ot demonstrate similarities between the Cynic philosophers and the dissident Carthaginian monks" -- and to his credit, Steinhauser notes that a "historical connection between [the two groups] cannot be proved." By the same token, however, I wonder whether a similar piece (... or, in the case of Downing, similar pieceS ...) would have made their way into the pool of scholarly publication if the referent involved were not such an intriguing, entertaining bunch as the Cynics. Caught up in the eccentricities of Cynic accounts and anecdotes, it seems that even the most able of scholarly contributors at times set aside cautious discernment in favor of unbridled enthusiasm.
Such leaps do, of course, frequently move the field forward and as such should not be stifled -- nevertheless, it might be time to shelve Cynicism at least unless and until further evidence arises from the dungheap.
I'm not a NT scholar, and as such the "Cynic Jesus" (as endorsed by Burton Mack, J.D. Crossan, and most notably F. Gerald Downing) is largely safe from my critique. [It nevertheless strikes me that Downing's criteria for spotting a Cynic Christian raises a number of concerns -- as when he argues that Cynics might include “other individuals who espouse a Cynic life-style, if some in the ancient world see them as such, even if others find more significant different facets of their views and allegiance” (Cynics and Christian Origins, p. 55). This definition rather suggests that anyone whose views bear a “family resemblance” with Cynicism “can be used to illustrate and document what seemed Cynic to near contemporaries in the ancient world” (Ibid.). For my money, Downing here comes very close to identifying Cynics the way a certain former U.S. Supreme Court Justice defined pornography – he knows one when he sees one. The usefulness of this criterion for judicial or academic purposes appears dubious. But I disgress.]
The field of Early Christian studies has, however, has not remained entirely free from brushes with Cynic-ism either. This realization struck me recently when spending a bit of quality time with Augustine's De Opere Monachorum. The putative recipients of this treatise are a group of Carthaginian monks who distinguish themselves, first by their avoidance of manual labor in favor of a "lilies of the field" lifestyle of begging and otherwise living off the community's good graces and, on the other hand, by their long hair. (Hair, apparently, is a consistently pressing issue in Carthage, ranging from the un-veiled flowing locks of third-century virgins to the -- still unveiled, still flowing -- locks of fifth century monks. That's a topic for another entry, however.)
De Opere Monachorum has received attention primarily from two camps of scholars -- those interested in tracing late antique attitudes towards work in general and manual labor in particular, and those preoccupied by the question of the monks' identity and origin. The latter question is nearer and dearer to my own heart (... and while I'm not in full agreement with him either, thus far Daniel Caner has proposed the most satisfying solution.) Another recent contribution by a serious and highly respectable (... not to mention: far more brilliant than yours truly ...) scholar, Kenneth Steinhauser, however, involves the identification of these monks with -- Christian Cynics.
Prof. Steinhauser begins his brief contribution with a thoughtful exposition of prior work on the De Opere Monachorum, including a review of previously raised hypotheses of the monks' identity. He furthermore identifies six key characteristics that emerge from Augustine's description. While not all of these characteristics fit the picture (... the in my view essential exegetical preference for gospel-sayings over Pauline dicta, for example, falls by the wayside ...), Steinhauser nevertheless asserts that "[t]he beatnik monks of Carthage are remarkably similar to the ancient Cynic philosophers." Steinhauser's argument here comes close to Downing's in his reliance upon phenotypical resemblances: "Cynics did not work. They wore long hair and a distinctive garb. They acquired their livelihood begging. They engaged in various self-debasing practices. They wandered about the countryside. They propagated their views in public. They were social critics. They formed a clique." etc.
While some of these points require a bit of qualification -- long hair was not, as Steinhauser later concedes, a universal feature of Cynic habitus, and the mention of "self-debasing practices" raises uncomfortable issues in light of the monks' emphasis on humiliation as quasi-penitential ... a distinctly non-Cynic take. The more serious problem, however, is Steinhauser's subsequent development of his argument by way of three "illustrations from antiquity." Steinhauser here draws upon Diogenes' "self-sufficiency and independence" -- arguably a parallel with Augustine's monks; Gregory Nazianzen's encomium (an later bitter chastising) of Maximus as a Cynic; and the emperor Julian's (rather unflattering) analogy between monks and Cynics.
On the whole, these similarities fall rather short of being "sufficient ot demonstrate similarities between the Cynic philosophers and the dissident Carthaginian monks" -- and to his credit, Steinhauser notes that a "historical connection between [the two groups] cannot be proved." By the same token, however, I wonder whether a similar piece (... or, in the case of Downing, similar pieceS ...) would have made their way into the pool of scholarly publication if the referent involved were not such an intriguing, entertaining bunch as the Cynics. Caught up in the eccentricities of Cynic accounts and anecdotes, it seems that even the most able of scholarly contributors at times set aside cautious discernment in favor of unbridled enthusiasm.
Such leaps do, of course, frequently move the field forward and as such should not be stifled -- nevertheless, it might be time to shelve Cynicism at least unless and until further evidence arises from the dungheap.
Powered by ScribeFire.
No comments:
Post a Comment