The Great Mystery: Death, Memory and the Archiving of Monastic Culture in Late Antique Religious ...

187 Pages·2015·1.55 MB·English

The Great Mystery: Death, Memory and the
Archiving of Monastic Culture in Late Antique
Religious Tales
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Dirkse, Saskia. 2015. The Great Mystery: Death, Memory and the Archiving of Monastic Culture in
Late Antique Religious Tales. Doctoral dissertation, Harvard University, Graduate School of Arts
& Sciences.
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The  Great  Mystery:    
Death,  Memory  and  the  Archiving  of  Monastic  Culture  
in  Late  Antique  Religious  Tales  

A  dissertation  presented  

by  

Saskia  Caroline  Dirkse  

to  

The  Department  of  the  Classics  

in  partial  fulfillment  of  the  requirements    
for  the  degree  of  
Doctor  of  Philosophy  
in  the  subject  of    
Byzantine  Greek  

Harvard  University  
Cambridge,  Massachusetts  

May  2015
©  2015  Saskia  Caroline  Dirkse  
All  rights  reserved.
Dissertation  Advisor:  Professor  John  Duffy     Saskia  Caroline  Dirkse  

The  Great  Mystery:  Death,  Memory  and  the  Archiving  
of  Monastic  Culture  in  Late  Antique  Religious  Tales  

Abstract  

The  present  study  investigates  attitudes  towards  and  teachings  about  the  end  of  life  and  the  
soul’s   passage   to   the   next   world,   as   expressed   in   late   antique   religious   tales   in   Greek,  
particularly   from   Egypt   and   the   Sinai.   The   intellectual   setting   is   that   of   Chalcedonian  
Christianity,  but  within  those  strictures  there  was  scope  for  a  range  of  creative  treatments  and  
imaginings   of   a   topic   which   canonical   Scripture   touched   upon   in   mostly   vague   terms   or  
glancing  allusions.  While  there  was  much  speculation  and  discussion  in  what  we  may  call  
formal  theology,  the  use  of  arresting  narrative,  some  of  it  with  an  almost  dramatic  character,  
gave  exponents  of  doctrine  the  ability  to  reach  a  wider  audience  in  a  more  penetrating  and  
persuasive  way.  And,  as  the  number  of  scriptural  allusions  here  will  make  clear,  it  was  possible  
to  develop  ideas  and  images  within  the  large  gaps  left  by  Holy  Writ  which  were  nevertheless  
not  inconsonant  with  the  same.  
  Coupled  with  the  relative  freedom  allowed  for  presentations  of  a  universal  (death)  was  
an  urgency  to  do  so  which  was  particular  to  the  time  (one  of  sweeping  social  and  political  
changes  within,  and  threats  to,  the  empire).  We  consider  here  the  connection  between  the  
universal  and  the  particular,  and  some  of  the  most  important  approaches  taken  to  the  subject.  
iii
This  work  builds  upon  that  of  a  number  of  scholars,  including  Derek  Krueger,  John  
Wortley,  Phil  Booth,  André  Binggeli,  Elizabeth  Castelli  and  Aron  Gurevich.  The  first  and  last  
chapters  of  the  dissertation  are  given  to  thematic  treatment  of  the  moments  immediately  before  
and  immediately  after  death.  The  second,  third  and  fourth  chapters  are  each  dedicated  to  one  of  
the  three  most  influential  ascetic  writers  of  the  period:  John  Klimakos,  John  Moschos,  and  
Anastasios  of  Sinai.  We  look  at  how  their  presentations  of  death  not  only  frame  the  ideals  of  
monastic  life  but  to  record  for  posterity  the  fading  ways  of  a  changing  world.  

iv
Contents  

Abstract  .......................................................................................................................................................  iii  

Table  of  Contents    .......................................................................................................................................  v  

Acknowledgements  ..................................................................................................................................  vi  

Introduction    ................................................................................................................................................  1  

Chapter  1:  Τελωνεῖα:  The  Tollgates  of  the  Air  as  an  Egyptian  Motif    
               in  Patristic  Sources  and  Early  Byzantine  Hagiography    .................................................  10  

Chapter  2:  A  Ladder  Over  the  Wall,  or,  Klimakos  and  A  Prison  of  One’s  Own  Making    .............  30  

Chapter  3:  Moschos:  “In  prison  hast  thou  spent  a  pilgrimage    
                                 and  like  a  hermit  overpass’d  thy  days.”    ...........................................................................  66  

Part  I:  The  Recovery  of  Anchorites’  Bodies    .......................................................................................  75  

Part  II:  Variations  on  the  Script    ...........................................................................................................  93  

Chapter  4:  Anastasios  and  the  Spirit  of  the  Place  ..............................................................................  103  

Chapter  5:  The  Final  Conversation    .....................................................................................................  143  

Conclusion    ..............................................................................................................................................  167  

Bibliography  ............................................................................................................................................  170

v
Acknowledgements  

It  is  a  great  pleasure  for  me  to  acknowledge  and  thank  some  of  the  people  who,  through  their  
guidance,  friendship  and  support,  have  made  this  dissertation  possible.  

First,  I  wish  to  thank  my  supervisor,  John  Duffy,  who  in  the  seven  years  that  we  have  known  each  
other  has  been  unstintingly  kind  and  generous  with  his  time  and  his  deep  fund  of  knowledge.  Like  
his  namesake  John,  who  figures  so  frequently  in  this  dissertation,  Professor  Duffy  has  been  to  me  a  
model  teacher,  whose  academic  rigor  is  seamlessly  paired  with  a  gentle  sense  of  humor  and  a  
sincere  appreciation  of  a  good  story.  It  is  a  paradox  appropriate  to  this  genre  that  one  feels  so  
humble  in  the  presence  of  a  man  so  uplifting.  

My  sincere  gratitude  and  appreciation  also  go  once  again  to  the  two  other  members  of  my  thesis  
committee:  to  Panagiotis  Roilos,  whose  advice,  support  and  teaching  have  been  crucial  to  my  
development   as   a   scholar;   and   to   Jan   Ziolkowski,   who   has   shown   me   great   kindness   both  
professionally  and  personally,  along  with  his  wife  Liz,  in  making  me  feel  welcome  at  Dumbarton  
Oaks.  

Of  the  many  people  in  the  Harvard  Classics  Department  who  have  helped  make  my  time  there  such  
a  rewarding  experience,  special  thanks  go  to  Greg  Nagy,  David  Elmer,  Emma  Dench,  Vassiliki  Rapti  
and  Sarah  Insley  –  inspiring  teachers  all.  Teresa  Wu  and  Alyson  Lynch  have  been  ideal  friends  and  
have  filled  my  sails  on  countless  occasions.  Vladimir  Bošković  has  always  been  eager  to  share  his  
many   insights.   Julian   Yolles   and   Deniz   Turker   make   everything   sweeter.   And   without   Julia  
Scarborough  –  one  flinches  to  think  how  much  one  would  have  missed  without  her.  

Dumbarton  Oaks  has  played  an  essential  role  in  my  formation  as  scholar  and  it  is  with  pleasure  that  
I  thank  Margaret  Mullett  for  her  wisdom  and  generosity  and  Alice-­‐‑Mary  and  Bill  Talbot  for  their  
kindness,  hospitality  and  acute  scholarly  eyes.  The  fellows  and  staff  have  been  an  absolute  delight.  
And  Deb  Stewart  has  done  so  much  that  I  can’t  even  begin  here  to  thank  her  properly.  

Since  January  I’ve  had  the  pleasure  of  finding  a  new  professional  home  at  the  University  of  Basel,  
where  I  have  the  extraordinarily  good  fortune  to  work  for  and  with  an  exceptional  group  of  
scholars.  Martin  Wallraff,  Patrick  Andrist  and  Cristina  Ricci  have  given  a  warm  welcome  and  
helpful  guidance  to  my  colleagues  and  me;  they  have  also  been  gracious  and  accommodating  to  my  
schedule  while  I  was  finishing  writing  up  these  last  few  months.  A  particular  word  of  thanks  to  Nick  
Marinides,  who  is  kind  and  with  whom  discussion  is  always  fruitful.  

Without  my  father,  Jan-­‐‑Paul  Dirkse,  I  might  never  had  made  it  to  Harvard  in  the  first  place.  He  saw  
to  my  early  education  and  then  supported  me  through  six  years  at  St.  Andrews  and  Oxford.  A  
scholar  himself,  he  taught  me  to  love  books  and  learning;  he  and  his  wife  Daphne  Bergsma  have  
encouraged  me  throughout.  My  dear  brother  Maarten  Dirkse  generously  opened  his  home  up  to  me  
for  over  a  month  when  I  was  staying  in  Leiden.  Aunt  Olga  Smulders-­‐‑Meyer’s  house  in  Watertown  
was  always  open  and  welcoming.  And  in  writing  on  what  they  have  left  us  who  have  gone  on  
before  us,  I  remember  my  mother,  Maria  Smulders,  with  whom  I  first  saw  the  lands  of  Egypt  and  
Greece  and  the  city  of  Constantinople,  and  whose  levenslust  has  stayed  with  me  still.  

Finally,  I  wish  to  thank  my  husband,  Roderick  Saxey,  for  his  love  and  support.  For  our  past  and  for  
our  future.  It  is  to  him  that  I  dedicate  this  work.  
vi
Exegi  monumentum  ære  perennius  
regalique  situ  pyramidum  altius…  
          —Ode  3.30  

So  long  as  men  can  breathe  or  eyes  can  see,  
So  long  lives  this  and  this  gives  life  to  thee.  
          —Sonnet  18  

General  Introduction  

In  the  Christian  thought  of  Late  Antiquity,  death  presented  the  ultimate  transition:  a  separation  
of  body  and  soul;  a  time  of  joy  and  peace  for  the  righteous  and  of  grief  and  penance  for  the  
wicked.  Although  for  most,  death  was  the  inexorable  conclusion  to  life  in  the  flesh,  a  fact  which  
the  pious  Christian  was  instructed  always  to  bear  carefully  in  mind,  a  number  of  Byzantine  text  
collections  belonging  to  the  genre  of  the  religious  tales  include  narratives  which  show  the  act  of  
dying  not  as  an  immovable  absolute  in  a  fixed  order  but  as  a  variable  process  that  could  
sometimes  be  anticipated,  delayed,  temporarily  reversed  or  even  permanently  undone.  The  
living  could  also  taste  of  death,  be  it  in  vision  or  in  the  flesh,  only  to  return  to  tell  the  dread  and  
wondrous  tale  of  their  experiences  in  the  Other  World.  
  The   prevalence   of   these   motifs   within   the   tales   tradition   suggests   that   there   was  
considerable   interest   in   such   information.   It   is   indeed   surprising   that,   despite   its   looming  
presence  in  the  Scriptures  and  its  monumental  importance  as  a  Christian  telos,  the  process  of  
death  is  not  more  fully  addressed  in  the  Bible.  Though  Scripture  reveals  the  contours  of  this  
transition,1  it  does  not  frequently  offer  the  sort  of  precise  and  exhaustive  answers  an  anxious  
believer  might  seek:  what  kind  of  judgment  he  would  face,  the  nature  of  the  Other  World,  and  

1  The  Scriptures  do  offer  some  more-­‐‑or-­‐‑less  clear  information  on  both  the  general  judgment  (in  parable  of  the  sheep  

and  the  goats  (Matt.  25:31-­‐‑46))  and  the  particular  judgment  (the  story  of  Lazarus  and  Dives  (Luke  16:19-­‐‑31)).
1
what  rewards  and  punishments  would  await  him  there.  The  tales  tradition  thus  represents  an  
informal  and  supplementary  exploration  of  man’s  immediate  ante-­‐‑  and  post-­‐‑mortem  experience,  
often  in  accordance  with  and  an  enrichment  of  what  was  already  set  out  in  biblical,  apocryphal  
and  patristic  writing,  but  sometimes  also  independent  of  it.  As  Aron  Gurevich  has  observed,  
religious  tales  drew  on  “a  rich  fund  of  superstition  and  legend  in  order  to  make  Christian  ideas  
about  the  soul,  death,  resurrection  and  punishment  accessible  to  the  mass  of  the  faithful.  It  was  
impossible   to   communicate   with   them   other   than   in   the   simple   language   of   beliefs   and  
‘superstitions.’”2    
          In  partially  lifting  the  veil  between  worlds  and  affording  readers  an  opportunity  to  
partake  in  what  lies  beyond  (a  chance,  in  the  canonical  story  of  Lazarus,  not  fully  granted  to  the  
brothers  of  the  hapless  Dives3),  the  narratives  offer  their  audience  insight  by  way  of  others’  
experiences.  And  so  the  tales  tradition  includes  a  variety  of  characters  of  a  wide  range  of  types,  
from  many  backgrounds,  in  many  different  situations.  The  most  familiar  motif  is  likely  the  
untimely  death  of  a  dissolute  individual  followed  by  a  miraculous  revival,  after  which  the  
undeceased  reorients  his  life,  tasked  now  with  conveying  to  others  second-­‐‑hand  what  he  has  
seen  with  his  own  eyes  –  a  Christian  analogue  to  the  Myth  of  Er.  But  not  all  tales  have  such  
explicitly  moralizing  scripts;  there  are  also  the  lofty  visions  of  great  ascetics  who  witness  the  
heavenly   ascent   of   others   or   are   taken   on   such   journeys   themselves,   or   the   temporary  
reanimation  of  the  long-­‐‑since  departed  to  protest  the  conditions  of  their  interment  or  prevent  

2  Gurevich  1992:71.
3  Luke  16:21-­‐‑31.  (Inter  alia,  “And  beside  all  this,  between  us  and  you  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed:  so  that  they  which  
would  pass  from  hence  to  you  cannot;  neither  can  they  pass  to  us,  that  would  come  from  thence”  (v.  26).)
2
grave-­‐‑robbers  from  violating  their  rest.  The  dead  also  appear  to  the  living  in  dreams,  or  the  
dreamer  himself  receives  a  preview  of  death  through  the  mirror  of  death’s  brother,  sleep.  
  The  Byzantines  conceived  of  two  eschatologies:  the  “major”  one,  which  deals  with  “the  
context  of  the  whole  history  of  Creation,”4  and  a  countless  number  of  “minor,”  individual  ones,  
experienced  by  every  man,  and  by  everyman.5  “Christianity  confers  on  each  individual  [a]  
personal  responsibility  for  his  choices  of  the  path  of  righteousness  or  sin.  This  is  why  the  
judgment  of  each  soul  is  axiomatic  in  vision  stories.”6  The  church  as  a  whole  will  need  to  wait  
together  for  the  great  and  terrible  day  of  the  Lord,7  whose  “day  and  hour  knoweth  no  man  –  no,  
not   the   angels   of   heaven[;]”8   but   each   particular   Christian,   living   as   a   microcosm   of  
Christendom,  will  see  his  personal  eschaton  “immanentized”  before  his  eyes.  These  eyes  are  
given  “dual  lenses”  to  see  near  and  far  together:  the  believer  is,  so  to  speak,  healed  of  both  
myopia  and  presbyopia,  and  in  his  experience  acquires  a  necessary  and  salvific  perspective.  By  
nature  we  respond  with  greater  alacrity  to  what  is  immediate  and  personal  than  to  what  is  
general  and  distant.  But  the  faithful  moribund  not  only  takes  his  own  cross  upon  himself9  but  is  
also  «συµμπολ[ίίτης]  τῶν  ἁγίίων  καὶ  οἰκεῖ[ος]  τοῦ  Θεοῦ»10  and  is  but  a  single  member  of  the  
larger  body  of  Christ.11  As  such,  he  must  have  a  vision  of  both  the  immediate  and  the  distant.  
He  is  compelled  to  see  the  latter  by  this  “spectacular”  vision,  when  in  speculo  spectat,  exspectat,  

4  Gurevich  1992:72.
5  Gurevich  1992:77.
6  Ibidem.
7  Joel  2:31,  Malachi  4:5.
8  Matt.24:36.
9  Luke  4:27.
10  Ephes.  2:19.
11  Rom.  12:5;  1Cor.  10:17,  12:12-­‐‑27.
3