Hauerwas: CT958
You May See What You Are
Rhetorical Characters in the Letters of Augustine of Hippo and Sulpicius Severus
CT958 - Philosophical Theology, April 23, 2013
Over the course of this class, we have explored truthfulness in relation to classical rhetoric. Through a variety of writers, we have learned about the forensic, ceremonial, and political occasions for rhetorical argument and the proofs frequently used therefore, including pathos, ethos, and logos. For this final paper, we were asked to do a rhetorical analysis of a text of our choosing; to discover and interpret the different rhetorical characters the authors employ and to what effect. Given my personal history and combat experience, I have chosen to focus on two authors; Augustine, bishop of Hippo and an early Christian just war theologian, and Sulpicius Severus, the biographer of the soldier saint and French bishop Martin of Tours. The form of literature I have selected is epistlatory instead of narrative. Both authors have copious works of narrative (Augustine's Confessions and Severus' Life of St. Martin), for letter-writing allows for greater depth of insight into the author's character. In personal exchanges, we often let our guard down and can let slip our own biases and prejudices. This certainly is the case here for Severus, a lowly presbyter, and Augustine, the preeminent Doctor of the Church. Furthermore, restricting my exercise to epistles gives some continuity between the two writers and has the added bonus of minimizing the reading necessary for such a study. In this paper, I will explore the context and audience of each of the letters used from Augustine and Severus.[1] The reason and circumstances within which each author wrote, we will find, are very different and very important, and therefore should not be overlooked. After going over the unique situation each writer wrote from, I will describe a number of prototypical characters each imagines within their works and to what extent each is painted on to various people about whom they are speaking (including, at times, themselves). In Augustine, I have found three: the Dutiful Man, the Soldier of Christ, and the Soldier of Fortune. In Severus there are four: the Doubting Thomas, the Man of Virtue, the Angelic Martyr, and the Faithful Warrior. Each character will be located within the writings and explored briefly in light of the context and purpose of the works in which they appear. Finally, I will explore a few of the rhetorical proofs that Augustine and Severus wield, though less attention will be paid here. I will conclude with a brief synthesis of Severus and Augustine by considering how their strategies and characters might compare and contrast with one another.
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The occasion for Augustine writing his fellow African-Roman compatriot is not totally clear, though the correspondence begins with letter 185. From this first letter we come to learn that Augustine knows of Boniface's position as a soldier, a tribune at this time, but the question of military service does not occupy Augustine's pen. Instead, he gives an account contra the Arians and Donatists. To call it a typical theological diatribe would not be a stretch. However, by letter 189, in AD 418, it is clear that Boniface has raised the issue of his being expected to kill in battle as a prestigious Roman general of being of particular concern for him, or perhaps for his men. It can be speculated that Boniface corresponds with the esteemed Bishop in order to gain some level of inner peace, but also to have some measure of guidance for the men under his command. If letters were often shared in transit with communities and also read aloud upon their reception, it is safe to assume that Augustine writes to Boniface as every-soldier, as he would any Roman conscript, in the hopes of maximizing his teaching effect. When he writes, we can reasonably assume that the issues Boniface raises are those felt by many Christian soldiers in Roman garb, and it is important to understand their unique concerns.
For the entirety of Church history up until that point, Christian theologians decried military service for one of two general reasons; either because soldiers were frequently expected to make gestures of worship toward Caesar,[2] or because of the violence that soldiers employed in battle and elsewhere. The former would already have begun to lose significant concern because from Constantine onward, few Emperors considered themselves gods and even fewer enacted persecutions of any religion (much less the one in control of the status quo). The latter was of much greater concern for Christians in the Roman army, of which there would have been increasingly many. Christians in the army no longer dealt with the issue of Caesar-worship, but with violence.
A third issue facing Christian soldiers is perhaps not unique to the military, though Augustine takes it as his concern as well, especially in letter 220, his final epistle to Boniface in AD 427, which is debauchery and corruption. Because of their status and armaments, the life of soldiers lent itself to lewdness and concupiscence. They held much power in the provinces outside Rome, and could bully indigenous populations into getting things they wanted and could otherwise get away with cruel and exploitative acts. The same is true today, and many "military towns" are marked by the presence of drug rings, strip clubs, and high violent crime rates. Augustine addresses this issue quite fervently in letter 220, after some poor choices that Boniface makes after the death of his wife, which we will get to shortly.
As for the form and context of the letters in question, Augustine overtly addresses Boniface, first as a Tribune and eventually as the Supreme Commander of the Western Roman Army. But as I have mentioned above, it is reasonable to assume other readers along the route the letter travelled would have likely read it as pertaining to their own situation as well. The audience therefore has at least two parts; Boniface on the one hand, and Christian congregations containing Roman soldiers on the other. Given Augustine's fame at this late stage of his life, it is likely that other bishops and religious figures would have taken notice of this exchange and drawn from it as well. It may have parallels today with news outlets distributing talking points to their pundits and talking heads. As the letters pass through various communities on their way to Boniface, pastors read and take what guidance they can from them and apply the teachings to their own context. So too may we read it today, as theologically savvy advice in reference to soldiering.
What characters, then, does Augustine imagine in his letters to Boniface? Certainly each of their individual statuses prevented the two from knowing one another incredibly well. We all rely somewhat on caricatures and stereotypes in order to make sense of our acquaintances; a kind of relational shorthand. In the absence of such intimate familiarity, who is it that Augustine imagines Boniface to be? Furthermore, the correspondence stretched somewhere between nine and ten years,[3] and Boniface obviously grows and changes in that time period. We can see from Augustine's tone and focus that Boniface has taken himself down a notch, so to speak, between 418 and 427. Indeed, the difference between the second and third letter is markedly downcast, from congratulatory and platitudinous language in letter 189 in 418 to a deep concern over morals and conduct in letter 220 nine years later, just three years before Augustine's death. In these last two letters,[4] there are three major characters that Augustine paints onto Boniface: the Dutiful Man (especially the Son and Husband), the Soldier of Christ, and the Soldier of Fortune.
In the greetings to Boniface in each of his letters, Augustine refers to Boniface as "my distinguished and honorable son" and "my noble Lord."[5] This relationship establishes that, while militarily Boniface might outrank him ("my lord"), in the matters being discussed, it is Augustine who is the superior ("my son"). But far from trying to shut Boniface up and create what in the Army we referred to as a "one way conversation," Augustine attempts to dissolve hard and fast notions about rank that Boniface might otherwise have acquired from this service. Boniface is commended in the first letter for rightly seeking to do and believe the catholic faith that he has adopted, and Augustine recognizes this posture of humility. He prefaces his commentary on military service with a reminder that "This letter, therefore, may serve rather as a mirror in which you may see what you are, than as a directory from which to learn what you ought to be."[6] Far from a rebuke, Augustine speaks to his distinguished and honorable son as a loving father should, with respect and gentleness of heart, so as to build up and encourage. The son, then, has a duty to respond in love by taking the advice to heart and "hear The Lord our God speaking by" the spiritual father, Augustine.[7]
The dutiful husband is another character type Augustine utilizes to correct Boniface in his letter of AD 418. In the nine years between letter 189 and 220, Boniface's beloved wife had died, and he had considered entering "the service of God,"[8] which most scholars agree was a reference to the monastic life. Somewhere along the way, however, Boniface instead marries again and also falls into adultery and other concupiscent practices. Augustine again, as nine years earlier, frames the letter as a father writing to a son about how to conduct himself. He acknowledges that Boniface's own circumstances do not lend him to being spoken to so harshly (who does, to an armed general?), but the relationship of father to son on a spiritual plane makes possible the words Augustine feels compelled to speak to Boniface, the beloved son who is "commended to the guardianship and guidance of divine mercy, for present and eternal salvation."[9] As a husband to his first wife, Boniface was made to see the vanity of the world, which inspired him to become a monk upon her death. Augustine coyly reminds Boniface of his husbandly duties, which "would suffice for the support of yourself and those dependent upon you."[10] A husband has responsibilities for those in his care, responsibilities in which Boniface has failed in his inward turn to lust and pride.
Augustine tries his best to balance rebuke with encouragement where he can, like his claim that Boniface's second marriage, though "an act of obedience due... 'to the higher powers,'"[11] it was by Boniface being overcome by his passions, instead of the continence that inspired his interest in monastic life. Some writers have suggested that Augustine discourages Boniface from monasticism because, as a gifted general, he had a responsibility to repel the barbarian attacks,[12] but the letter here makes clear that the invocation of responsibility is not to the state, but to his new wife, who "became [his] wife innocently and without restrictions."[13] Boniface is prohibited from leaving his public office not because he must protect the Empire, but because he has conjugal duties to the woman he married, even though for poor reasons. Augustine makes clear that 'if [Boniface] had not now had a wife, he should [could?] withdraw himself from the labors of military service' and become a monk.[14] Without his wife's consent, Augustine argues, Boniface is not free to enter the celibate monastic life or to leave military service.
The second, and more poignant, character type Augustine sets up is the soldier of Christ. This phrase is highly nuanced and not without substantial meaning. In some manuscripts, early Christian communities referred to themselves in this way, and also as "the army" of Christ or of God. This was before the issue of military service gained prominence, and its use thereafter (including Augustine's to refer to Boniface) can be misleading. A soldier of Christ does not fight in the same way as a soldier of Caesar; theirs is a spiritual battle against evil. "The soldiers of Christ fight in silence, not to kill men."[15] Augustine even speaks of the saints fighting invisible enemies while Boniface and other "militant"[16] members of the faith fight the visible enemies of the saints, namely barbarians threatening Rome. This theme of the saints of Christ fighting with soldiers in tandem with the living for the Church and her faith occurs frequently in Augustine's letters,[17] and he names among them King David, the Centurion of Great Faith,[18] Cornelius,[19] and the soldiers at the River Jordan.[20] By their example, Augustine concludes to Boniface that he "can please God while engaged in active military service."[21] The life of a soldier of Christ builds up in them "the cincture of a perfectly chaste self-restraint" and a "surer and stronger defense of spiritual armor."[22]
These examples serve to exemplify what the soldier of Christ is charged with in their defense of the faith against the devil and demons that set themselves against the Church. They are shining exemplars of what one might attain for God "while engaged in active military service." But they have a shadow type, which I have called the Soldier of Fortune, which contrasts with this virtuous work Augustine calls Boniface to. The Soldier of Fortune, as the title suggests, pursues wealth and selfish desires, like concubines and concupiscence. Augustine lambasts Boniface in their final correspondence for precisely this orientation of the heart. Though his second marriage was entered into out of obedience due to the higher powers, he has entertained the idea of remarriage more out of a desire to satisfy "the worldly cares with which [he was then] engrossed."[23] The Soldier of Fortune is "overcome by concupiscence"[24] and blames others for his or her own circumstances.[25] Augustine begs Boniface to "contemplate and inquire into the matter"[26] and see that in such activities, he is concerned not with God, but with himself and the dealings of human beings.
Augustine leverages many rhetorical proofs in his letters to Boniface. He appeals to ethos to establish his spiritual authority over Boniface in each letter, within his greetings to the esteemed general, encouraging the soldier to "hear The Lord our God speaking in me."[27] The character of their relationship is that of father and son, master and disciple, since the content of their discourses is not martial, but spiritual. Had the former been the case, it would have been Boniface instructing Augustine. But the Bishop is the father over the general in this case. Though Boniface is Augustine's "noble lord," he is also his "honorable son."[28] A bishop appeals to spiritual authority and cares for the sons and daughters in his or her care, and the case with Boniface is no different; though a high ranking political figure, in spiritual matters, he is Augustine's subordinate.
A second proof Augustine uses is pathos, especially in letter 220, in which Boniface has shown himself to have fallen away from the virtue Augustine otherwise identified in letter 189. Pathos is concerned with the present and is often an appeal to emotion. It comes out most clearly in letter 220, when Augustine seems to depart from the calm and collected demeanor of earlier epistles. After recounting Boniface's shortcomings (and thereby making clear to him that they are of direct relevance to spiritual matters, the overall emphasis of his three letters), he insists that Boniface "Show that [he is] a brave man."[29] No light verbiage when uttered to a seasoned veteran, to be sure. That Boniface must show that he is brave makes absolutely clear that Augustine is of the opinion that Boniface is not being brave. He has allowed his passions to overcome him and he has failed at being a Soldier of Christ, but instead is being a Soldier of Fortune. Furthermore, his masculine integrity is challenged; the biting critique also has within it the implicit claim that he has failed as a husband in his taking of concubines. There is nowhere in his letters a more stark and scathing indictment that Augustine levels against Boniface, and the discussion of saints and soldiers fighting in tandem against visible and invisible enemies makes it clear that bravery is at the core of being a Soldier of Christ, that the fight against barbarians is as real and as crucial as the fight against the passions and other invisible enemies Christians face. That Boniface excels so at the former and fails at the latter pains Augustine.
Finally, Augustine employs logic rather sparsely in these two letters we've focused on. That these two are more personal and particular than the first letter (185) means that emotional and character appeals have a greater influence in this genre of writing. Throughout these two letters, Augustine writes not to persuade Boniface (or other Christian soldiers) that fighting is ok, but that the duties of husband, disciple, and soldier are about much more than mere battlecraft. However, this is not to say that Augustine avoids logic, as he certainly employs logos deftly. Instead, it is a less effective tool in his discourse with Boniface. One shining example is his argument, repeated frequently by later theologians, that war is waged ultimately for peace, which is a good that God loves. Because peace is a good, it is worth fighting for, though peace must extend even to our enemies. For the Soldier of Christ, "peace is the object of your desire"[30] if the war is truly waged for God, who is the friend of Rome and its enemies. Soldiers of Christ, therefore, must fight even for the benefit of their enemies, and must not fight with passion in their heart, but with love for their enemies. It is the Soldier of Fortune, rather, that fights passionately and for his or her own sake and interests. Such a person cannot claim to fight for Christ, for to do so would not be to fight for the good, but for themselves.
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The occasion for Sulpicius Severus' letters is different than it was for Augustine. First of all, Severus writes to different people in each of the three letters we will explore here; to Eusebius, Deacon Aurelius, and his mother-in-law Bassula. Scattered about, but especially in his third letter, Severus makes clear that he is interested in his works being published so that others may read them. He has already written his biography of Martin of Tours and gained a somewhat wide acclaim. These letters, then, are not unlike Karl Barth's many prefaces to his Epistle to the Romans, in which he repeatedly defends his work against critics and proponents alike. Because Severus expects his epistles to be read, we can assume that he writes with that in mind, that the letters are not just for the recipients, but also for the wider Church.
The context surrounding the letters is also worthy of note. It would seem that his biography, The Life of St. Martin, was the first of his published works. Beside his biographic Life, Severus also wrote Dialogues, Letters, and a Sacred History. Most of his published works concern the bishop of Tours with whom he interacted frequently and intimately, if his writings are to be believed. His Sacred History seems similarly obsessed with the French saint, concluding not long after the Priscillian affair of 385 though the goings on of the Church through the start of the 5th century would have been relevant for his project as well. Many of his Dialogues and Letters are consumed with extrapolating the life of Martin even more, especially his Letters, which cover the circumstances regarding Martin's death. In this sense, they are not advice to a subordinate as Augustine's epistles are, but are more narrative in tone. His concern is to persuade readers of his works to the saintliness of Martin, perhaps building a case for his canonization before the bishop was laid in the ground. In fact, because Martin occupies Severus' writing so much, it is difficult to identify rhetorical characters that he constructs without a Martian lens. However, the prototypes I'll focus on can be painted onto Martin as well as other individuals in Severus' letters, including: the Doubting Thomas, the Man of Virtue, the Angelic Martyr, and the Faithful Warrior.
The Doubting Thomas is the first we encounter in this series of undisputed letters. Severus writes his first letter in direct response to "a certain person, under the influence of an evil spirit"[31] who questions how Martin could have supposedly saved people from fire and yet been caught up in a fiery escapade himself. We find in the letter that there was a story circulating that he had clumsily set a fire in a room with which he had been set up during his travels. Apparently, his host had made a bed of straw for the holy man, which was unwelcome in its luxuriousness. A small fire was also ignited for his warmth, so when he tossed the straw aside, it caught fire as he slept. Severus employs the Doubting Thomas type in two ways in this letter; on the one hand, it refers to the "certain person" who doubted blessed Martin's prudence and holiness. Of this person, Severus makes the link explicit, suggesting the person in question "would have been quite prepared to speak against The Lord in these terms."[32] The "terms" to which Severus refers is unclear, but could allude to any of three Biblical accounts: the doubting apostle himself;[33] Peter, in either his thrice denial[34] or incredulity at the idea that Jesus would have to suffer and die in order to fulfill the prophecies about him;[35] and of those who insisted that as a miracle worker, Jesus "save [him]self."[36] However, on the other hand, the Doubting Thomas prototype could refer to Martin himself, ensnared by "a fearful conflagration" that he might die by the flame.[37] Forgetting his creaturely finitude, Martin exhausts himself trying to put the flames out and therefore save his life. Severus narrates this story to Martin's shame, for it was only after "recovering" his habits and "seizing the shield of faith and prayer" that he finally comes to his eschatological senses and "lay[s] down in the midst of the flames" to pray and is thereafter miraculously saved.[38] The Doubting Thomas, therefore, is used by Severus to describe more than one actor in his description of events.
The Man of Virtue is another character prototype that Severus employs in the three letters we explore here. Though Severus does not use the language of virtue in his letters that frequently, I use it as a reference point to the particularly human characteristics that Severus ascribes to Martin, especially that of humility; for example, the fact that Martin refuses the luxuriousness of a straw bed, preferring the hard ground. Here again Severus paints the type onto more than just Martin, for he himself ironically refers to his own detestation of fame in his letter to his mother in law, Bassula.[39] In various places in his writings, he insists that he wishes not to be published or to acquire much attention, ostensibly preferring to remain a man behind the curtains, so to speak. However, that his works were published and enjoyed so widely belies his stated interest in remaining on the peripheries. Even his interaction with Bassula has explicitly contradictory remarks about the matter; at one point rebuking her for the "injury" she has caused him by sharing his writings[40] and later resolving "to write nothing... lest [she] publish him everywhere."[41] But more important for the Man of Virtue prototype are the frequent parallels made to Biblical stories in unfolding Martin's story. Here again, one wonders if Severus is dead set on canonizing his recently deceased friend.[42] The frequent allusions to the Bible include: the aforementioned passages about Peter's denials and the expectation that Martin save himself,[43] Martin's episode with the stove fire and Daniel "in the very midst of the furnace... [singing] a hymn of the Lord,"[44] being "aware of the period of his own death,"[45] parable-izing about animals and demons,[46] and finally, the transfiguration of the human body into a heavenly one.[47] It's possible that Man of Virtue is not the best frame through which to describe this aspect of Severus' rhetorical agenda, but if virtue is embodied by formation of particular habits and patterns of living it might at least be a helpful frame of reference.
The third type Severus orbits around is that of Angelic Martyr. If Man of Virtue describes Martin's earthly attributes, the Angelic Martyr gets at Martin's especially celestial shenanigans. It also gets at the issue of martyrdom, which holds a very significant place in early Christian theology. The martyrs were those who died refusing to recant their faith in Christ as Lord and Savior. Persevering great suffering was thought of as the ideal for every Christian; though martyrdom may not finally come to you, it acted as an undeniable test by which one's faith was sealed. However, after the end of the major persecutions, martyrdom was hard to come by. For the early Church, this is no small issue. Without this phenomenon, by which to tell the wheat from the chaff, many were thrown into doubt as to whether fellow Christians were indeed holding fast to the ancient faith. That one was no longer being discipled by costly grace caused much debate and consternation. This is significant for Martin because he is counted as one among a lineage of men who each and every one had been martyred. Every single Christian convert in the military prior to Martin, when pressed to worship Caesar or recant the faith, all refused and we immediately executed. At the Battle of Worms in 356, after 20+ years of unflinching service in the Praetorian Guard, Martin's time comes and he utters the timeless cadence of soldier saints before him; "I am a soldier of Christ, I cannot fight." When circumstances dictate that indeed he not be martyred, he must have been confused and perhaps a little disappointed. Severus certainly is, and presses the idea that Martin is every bit deserving of the glory of martyrdom as were those who were killed, for "he was alike able and willing to be a martyr."[48]
It is perhaps for Martin's benefit that Severus presses his cause so steadfastly. Indeed, the references to "St. Martin"[49] seem premature when you consider that the biography was published well prior to the subject's death. To drive his point home to others in his second letter, written upon the bishop's death in AD 396, Severus recounts a dream in which Martin is "clothed in a white robe, with a countenance as of fire, with eyes like stars, and with purple hair."[50] (What purple hair symbolizes is not immediately apparent) The apocalyptic rhetoric that Severus employs seems aimed at Martin "being joined especially to those who washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb."[51] Again, a parallel to Christ on the road to Emmaus[52] and other resurrection appearances, in Severus' vision, Martin "could not be steadfastly beheld, though he could be clearly recognized."[53] Finally, just like the saints before him, Martin intercedes for us in heaven, for "he will not be absent from us... but will be present with us as we discourse regarding him and will be near to us as we pray."[54] All of this seems to be Severus' way of securing the saintliness of his dear French friend, who was ready to suffer death for the faith but was denied the privilege thereof. The glory of martyrdom, for Severus, should not escape Martin, "because by both vow and virtues he was alike able and willing to be a martyr" for "he fully attained to the honor of martyrdom without shedding his blood."[55]
Finally, the fourth character I have identified is that of the Faithful Warrior. This prototype is not quite like the Soldiers of Christ or of Fortune that we saw in Augustine's writings, but is more like a kind or prayer warrior, mixing elements of devout piety and a warrior ethos together in one. The first example is in the episode of the fire, in which Martin, like a soldier in perilous battle, "though surrounded... did not perish."[56] Similarly, the warrior is one who "endures and conquers such things" who is patient and courageous.[57] After all, soldiers are not virtuous for being willing to kill, but "have been more remarkable for the dangers they encounter."[58] Ever the soldier, Martin conquers the flames by prayer and patience to the amazement of the monks who finally rescue him. Furthermore, Severus puts in Martin's lips a death-bed prayer that is run through with martial language. It survives as his novena to this day, speaking militarily as it does of continuing the fight of the faith, The Lord commanding him to persevere for the defense of his flock, and fighting under the banner of God alone.[59] At the bishop's funeral on November 11, AD 396, Severus carries on with the Faithful Warrior type by describing a number of men who had been baptized in Martin's diocese as having "had just taken the oath of allegiance to Christ."[60] Again, the "earthly warriors" who accompany Martin's body in the funeral procession had "overcome the world" under Martin's guidance.[61]
Severus' proofs throughout these three letters are varied and many, and to save time I will only cover a few that stick out. Most notably, he employs something like evangelical irony, coherent only to the most devout linguists and disciples who read his works. For the Faithful Warrior in the midst of battling the fires that threaten to engulf him, the last thing one would imagine the flames would do be to "shed a dewy refreshment over [Martin]."[62] In another instance that evokes the irony of strength in weakness we see in the Gospels, Severus makes clear that despite the certain person's inexcusable doubt in his first letter, the events that were "ascribed to the infirmity of Martin [are], in reality, full of dignity and glory."[63] The parodying of Jesus' parables, miracles, and foibles would furthermore appeal to an ethos familiar to a Bible-reading community like the Church. Severus counts on his readers having a healthy familiarity with the Bible and leverages its stories frequently without citation, hoping to establish Martin's authority by so often associating him with Biblical imagery and narratives. Because Severus most often is describing past events, very little pathos (or logos, for that matter) is employed, with the exception of his rebuke of those who doubt Martin's saintliness or who spread Severus' writings without his permission.
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So we see that Severus and Augustine both create rhetorical characters in their letters, characters that they utilize to persuade their readers to side with them. The genre of epistles is such that logos is seldom employed, whereas ethos and pathos get heavy play. Augustine wishes to persuade Boniface and other Christian soldiers to conduct themselves in love and not in selfish desires. The Roman military per se is not the issue at hand, and Augustine's political interests are not that of earlier theologians like Tertullian[64] or of latter theologians like Hays and Biggar.[65] Severus hopes to persuade his recipients and the wider Christian audience that the preeminent Christian soldier of his (and Augustine's) era is deserving of the honor of a martyr, even though the soldier saint had not been killed for the faith. One detects a bit of embarrassment on Severus' part in the first letter, by his rhetorical excess in arguing Martin's holiness. In his Life of St. Martin, he even flubs the dates to make it look like Martin had only been in the army three or four years, when in fact it was over twenty. Though he struggles to, Severus balances the cold hard facts with spiritual embellishment such that the complexities of saintliness emerge in his descriptions of his friend nonetheless. Both Severus and Augustine recognize that the line between particularities and generalizations is fine indeed, that by referencing one you can credibly speak to the other. Though the characters they imagine and construct have many aspects in common (the Faithful Warrior and the Soldier of Christ, or the Man of Virtue and the Dutiful Son/Husband), they have their own unique motivations and characteristics. In the end, both authors have their agendas but try to give credence to an objective appraisal of the facts. Far from being truly objective, we find traces of these prototypes even in the authors themselves, so we discover they are fluid and dynamic. Modern readers can take heart, then, that often we are our own caricatures of ourselves, that if we find ourselves pointing the finger, we are sure to have three more pointing back at ourselves. The harder we try to hide our biases and prejudices, the more they will find their way out of us.
Footnotes
[1] For Augustine, I focus on his correspondence with the Roman General Boniface, in letters 185, 189, and 220. For Severus, his three undisputed letters to Eusebius, the Deacon Aurelius, and his mother in law Bassula are used.
[2] This was fewer and farther between than we might think. Only a soldier above the rank of centurion (a commander of 100 men) was ever recorded as having this asked to make such gestures. What we would today call lower enlisted men, stratiotes (Greek Strong's #4757), were not expected to do so.
[3] No date is attributed to letter 185, but if we use letters 189 and 220 to judge, Augustine wrote about 3.5 letters per year, so between letter 185 and 189 would have been just one year. This is pure conjecture, however, and there is no way to tell concretely without better dating estimates.
[4] Exempting his first letter to Boniface, which, based on the short turnaround time, did not address Boniface's reason(s) for contacting the preeminent theologian
[5] Letter 189 (greeting), from Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 1. Edited by Philip Schaff. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1887.) Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1102189.htm. Letter 220 also uses "Son" and "Lord" explicitly. The remainder of this paper, I will refer only to the letters by their number and section listed on the New Advent site, for brevity (ex. Letter 185, Section 4 would read "185.4")
[6] 189.8
[7] 220.3
[8] Ibid.
[9] 220, greeting
[10] 220.3
[11] 220.4, citing Romans 13:1
[12] Daniel Bell's Just War as Christian Discipleship is the most recent I have come across that subscribes to this assumption, but it is also a widespread assumption I have encountered numerous times in reading commentaries on Augustine's theology about war and soldiering.
[13] 220.12
[14] Ibid., paraphrase. I know it is a choppy recapitulation, but Augustine's many rhetorical tangents and lack of punctuation in the translation make reliable interpretation difficult, especially how to understand the first sentence of 220.12, which carries on for six lines.
[15] 220.12
[16] The Church "Militant" here on earth is contrasted with the Church "Triumphant," those of the faith who have passed from this life triumphantly into life with Christ.
[17] 189.4 & 5, and 220.10 & 12
[18] Matthew 8:5-13, Luke 7:1-10
[19] Acts 10
[20] Luke 3:14. Augustine claims that they are there to be baptized, but this is not clear at all from the text. More likely they were guarding the tax collector who was in attendance.
[21] 189.4
[22] 220.3
[23] 220.3
[24] 220.4
[25] 220.8. Augustine speculates that Boniface would defend himself by insisting that "blame here ought rather to rest on persons who have injured" him.
[26] 220.8
[27] 220.3
[28] 189, greeting.
[29] 220.9
[30] 189.6
[31] Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 11. Ed. Philip Schaff. (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1887.), 18. (Letter 1, left side) For brevity, I will cite which letter I am quoting from (1, 2, or 3), the page number in the text (pp.18-23) and which column in the text you can find the exact quotation (for example, this citation would be "#1, 18L") I hate columns and find them to be heretical.
[32] #1, 18L
[33] John 20:24-29
[34] Matthew 26:33-35, Mark 14:29-31, Luke 22:33-34, & John 13:36-38
[35] Matthew 16:21-23
[36] Matthew 27:40 - the "rebel" beside him on the cross, & 27:42 - "the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders." (New International Version)
[37] #1, 19L
[38] #1, 19L-R
[39] #3, 21R
[40] Ibid.
[41] #3, 22L
[42] Letter #2 describes Martin's death, so we can surmise that it and following letters were written after the Bishop's demise
[43] #3, 22R
[44] #2, 20R and Daniel 3, especially v.25.
[45] #3, 22L. Jesus most notably predicts (is "aware" of) his own death in Matthew 16:21 where Jesus talks about going to Jerusalem to be killed, to which Peter responds with incredulity, earning himself a comparison to Satan by the Son of God. #EpicFail.
[46] Martin deals with a flock of water fowl in #3, 22R compares closely to Jesus' sending Legion into a herd of Pigs in Mark 5:1-13.
[47] In #3, 23R Severus describes Martin's body as one "which had been changed" in the glory of the resurrection. Furthermore, we can cite Severus' dream in #2, 20L (discussed earlier), and for Jesus we have the transfiguration tales in Matthew 17:1-9, Mark 9:2-8, and Luke 9:28-36.
[48] #2, 20R
[49] #2 19R, prefatory sentence (also in the title of his biography of Martin)
[50] #2, 20L
[51] #2, 20R
[52] Luke 24:13-32
[53] #2, 20L
[54] Ibid.
[55] #2, 20R
[56] #1, 18R
[57] Ibid., paraphrase
[58] #1, 18R. As though to really drive my point home, this passage actually refers not to soldiers but to saints.
[59] #3, 22R-23L
[60] #3, 23R
[61] Ibid.
[62] #1, 19R
[63] #1, 18R
[64] At Duke, I take for granted that Tertullian's pacifism is well known.
[65] From 2008-2009 in the journal Studies in Christian Ethics, Nigel Biggar reviewed Richard Hays Moral Vision of the New Testament and took issue with Hays' pacific read thereof, igniting a four-part correspondence between the two ethicists. Their rhetoric, while arguing very different claims, each assume that the modern militaries of the world are homogenous, as though the ethical quandary of a cook is the exact same as that of a grunt
