The Parton saint of Teachers!

"'Your total ignorance of that which you profess to teach merits the death penalty. I doubt whether you would know that St. Cassian of Imola was stabbed to death by his students with their styli. His death, a martyr's honorable one, made him a patron saint of teachers.'" -- Ignatius Reilly, in John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces [1]

As the second semester begins, 'tis well to think of the lot of the teacher. I had not known that there was a "patron saint" of teachers. And if there was one, I presumed, at least for the college and graduate crowd, that it was Thomas Aquinas. But Aquinas, even though he spent a good deal of time dealing with beginners, is usually considered the patron of the more heady philosophical types. We know that Aquinas was not a martyr, even though he died rather young at 49, leaving several unfinished works, including the famous Summa Theologiae.

So when I returned to Washington after Christmas from California, I wanted a book to read on the Alaska Airline Flight #6 from LAX to Reagan National. I was staying with my niece, who lives some twenty minutes from LAX. Among the books on her shelves, I spotted John Kennedy Toole's A Confederacy of Dunces, a title from Swift. I began to read this novel last summer but only covered a few pages. My good niece let me have it to read on the five-hour flight to D.C. Since the Introduction was by Walker Percy, I figured it would be a pretty good read.

Somewhere over the eastern United States, I came to the passage that I cited above, about St. Cassian of Imola, the patron of teachers. Needless to say, I had not heard of St. Cassian before, at least not this one. As I recall, another Cassian, a medieval abbot, wrote something called The Spiritual Meadow. So I looked up Cassian of Imola (a town near Ravenna) on Google. I found a reference to his Feast Day, August 13, from Butler's Lives of the Saints.

Cassian comes from the time of Julian the Apostate, in the fourth century or so. It seems that the Emperor had ordered all teachers to take an oath to the local gods, which Cassian, good Christian that he was, refused to do. (Our modern teachers have to take an oath that they will not refer to any gods, pagan or Christian, something known as "cultural evolution".) Roman soldiers who were Christian had the same problem. It was a local form of swearing loyalty to the state which was identified with the gods. It seemed like state-supported blasphemy, which it was.

Cassian was evidently a pious professor and refused to make such an oath. Whereupon, the local magistrate promptly decided to make an example of him. Cunning man that he was, the official involved the man's own students in his punishment. The students, not having finished the course, evidently had no problem with this strange form of justice. Cassian was stripped and tied to a post. From whence, his students, mindful of the man's punishments for their own scholarly laxities, drew their iron styli—pens used to mark on wax tablets—and stabbed the man to death.

So, here we have it. A Christian teacher was stabbed to death, under orders, by his own students with their own writing instruments in the name of the state for refusing to offer sacrifices to pagan gods. Today we have a more cruel punishment. We do not grant tenure to such stubborn types! But what could be a more graphic example for the scholarly vocation? One shudders to think of the lessons that students may draw from this account of how to deal with teachers!

In recording this remarkable history, the famous Butler laconically remarks, "There is no record of his (St. Cassian's) becoming a patron of teachers in spite of his pre-eminent qualifications for the role." Well, from now on, St. Cassian is my man. Recently, I decided to forbid computers from being used in my classes. But, so far, I have seen no indication of my good students rising to bludgeon Schall to death with their laptops because he would not let them type e-mails to their friends during class. Ever since Ignatius Reilly referred to him, I have had a special devotion to St. Cassian of Imola, patron of teachers. It is probably worth noting that the "dunces" to whom Jonathan Swift referred were no doubt all of high academic standing.

http://www.ignatiusinsight.com/features2008/print2008/schall_patronsaint_jan08.html