The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Epictetus, The Handbook 62: Embracing Statues



When you have adopted the simple life, do not pride yourself upon it, and if you are a water-drinker do not say on every occasion, 'I am a water-drinker.'

And if you ever want to train laboriously, keep it to yourself and do not make a show of it.

Do not embrace statues.

If you are very thirsty take a good draught of cold water, and rinse you mouth and tell no one.

—Epictetus, The Handbook, Chapter 47 (tr Matheson)

I learned very quickly that there was an inverse proportion between how much someone wanted to live well, and how much he wanted to be seen to be living well. I also think it true that while the desire for a good life is content with simplicity, the desire for recognition craves complexity.

Ask a good man what he does every day, and he might shrug his shoulders, and perhaps even tell you that he simply does his best to live with dignity and decency. Ask the self-important man, and he will drop one reference after another to all of his conquests. Be prepared, because the self-important man will go on for some time, while masking his self-love with the appearance of service. He would not care to do what he does if he can’t brag about it.

Consider the man who wishes to be healthy, so he eats well. Now consider the man who wishes to be seen as eating well, and he never misses the opportunity to tell you all about it, complete with a thorough account of his brilliant diet and exercise plan. He will be certain to remind you what a sacrifice it has all been, but if you only followed his model, you could be as great as him.

The first time I read this passage, many years ago, I had no idea what Epictetus meant about embracing statues. I could only think of those certain folks who enter a Catholic church, and go through that elaborate ritual of appearing devout, genuflecting, sprinkling themselves with holy water, and parading down the aisle with their hands pressed together, not forgetting to stop at every side altar to light another candle.

It turned out the reference was to Diogenes the Cynic, who apparently made it a point to hug status while naked in the middle of winter. Now the Cynics are close cousins to the Stoics, but the Cynics are sometimes more severe, and they became masters of what we would now call performance art. I’d like to think that Diogenes intended this as a teaching moment, but Epictetus will apparently have none of it. Once you intend to show, you are showing off.

I need to bite my own tongue many times a day, because I feel tempted to draw attention to myself, and I realize that what I want to say will not help someone else, but will only inflate my ego. I have great respect for a man from our local VFW, who I know to be a genuine war hero, and whenever the braggarts start talking about their noble deeds, he just sits quietly and smokes his cigar. The others could not hold a candle to what he did, but he doesn’t care. He lets them rant, and he doesn’t even roll his eyes in disgust.

I was taught something similar as a child, in my own particular Roman Catholic tradition, from Matthew 6: 1-6: 

Beware of practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them; for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.

Thus, when you give alms, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by men.

Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward.  But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by men.

 Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward.  But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

Written in 2/2012

Image: Jules Bastein-Lepage, Diogenes (1873)


 

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