Chapter 10 of 18

7. Tertullian And Pagans

7. Tertullian And Pagans

7

TERTULLIAN AND PAGANS

In this section, I wish to consider what Tertullian tells us about the relationship between Christians and the vast majority of those people, among whom they lived, who did not share their religious affiliation. In particular, I am interested in that relationship at an official or public level; the relationship between Christians and the Roman provincial government, as reflected in those treatises of Tertullian that touch upon this topic.

Perhaps Tertullian’s earliest surviving work is the two-volume To the Heathens, written in 197. It is addressed to pagan society at large and responds to their criticism that there were an ever-increasing number of Christians and to their practice of bringing them to trial without knowing much about them. Following the standard apologetic genre of the second century, Tertullian indicated that there were no crimes associated with being Christian for if there were they ought to be brought to light and Christians could then rightly be punished for them. Rejecting pagan gods was something many pagans themselves did and Christians, even though they did not sacrifice for the emperor, were more loyal than many other peoples. In the second book, Tertullian made use of Varro’s work on pagan religion to demonstrate this similarity between Christianity and some pagan self-criticism.

There is much in this work that is incomplete and unpolished. Indeed, several years later Tertullian reworked this material into a finely crafted treatise, which has remained his most enduring, Apology. This work is a forensic defence of Christianity against the pagan charges.

As Birley (1992:41) notes, both To the Heathens and Apology were responses to what can be found in the younger Pliny and Tacitus. Addressing himself now more specifically than his earlier work to provincial governors, not only did he argue that Christians were innocent but also he stated that there were procedural anomalies that made the trials against them invalid (Apology 1–3). He goaded them with the thought that if they condemned Christians out of ignorance of what Christianity was all about then it was a sign that they knew what they were doing was unjust, as it would not be able to stand up to scrutiny. He taunted them with the assertion that those who looked into Christianity ended up joining and that it must be good because Christians were proud to profess it, made no excuses for belonging and were prepared to be condemned for it (unlike those involved with evil who liked to keep their activity secret). Louis Swift has observed how Apology seeks to rouse indignation through the typical arguments of forensic oratory (Swift 1968:867–9). A skilled opponent could have responded that all this showed was that Christians were merely deluded in believing that something indeed evil was good. Others charged with the same kinds of offences, such as murder, incest, sacrilege or treason, were permitted to conduct a thorough defence and even when they confessed to crime the circumstances were investigated. When Christians pleaded their innocence with regard to particular crimes this was not investigated, and when they pleaded their guilt about being Christian neither was this investigated. Others were tortured to confess their guilt, while Christians were tortured to recant their confession. Others were interrogated when they denied the charges, yet Christians who denied their Christianity were released at once. Unwillingly perhaps, but here we find Tertullian providing us with some information about the differing degrees of commitment and endurance to the faith in the face of persecution.

Against the charges of murder, cannibalism and incest Tertullian offered a simple plea of ‘not guilty’ and employed rhetorical conjectural arguments to strengthen his case (Apology 7–9). Here he stated that Christians sometimes were betrayed to the authorities by their slaves and that their gatherings were the subject of raids (Apology 7.3–4). With regard to the charges of atheism or sacrilege (Apology 10–28) and treason (Apology 29– 45), Tertullian admits the charge but used rhetorical qualitative arguments to justify Christian action by examining motive (Sider 1971:74–8). Christians did not worship pagan gods as they did not exist (Apology 10.2). With regard to treason, Tertullian assured his readers that Christians prayed for the safety of those in authority (Apology 30.1), even for the bravery of armies (Apology 30.4). In fact, it was the empire that preserved the world from final judgement (Apology 32). The emperor was appointed to his position by God, Tertullian suggested (Apology 33.1). Christians would not engage in empty flattery of the emperor as did many pagans. Tertullian gives evidence that many non-Christians found the behaviour of their Christian neighbours anti-social and perplexing (Apology 35.4–5). Yet the response from Tertullian was to state that Christians stood shoulder to shoulder with their neighbours, sharing in the everyday events of life (Apology 42.3), including the army, even if only by chance (Apology 5.6; 37.4). He wanted his readers not to get the impression that Christians were somehow a separatist sect, even though they refrained from involving themselves in pagan religious activities, affairs of state or the spectacles of public entertainment (Apology 37.5–6; 38; 42.4–7).

Writing to fellow Carthaginians in On the Pallium, not only did Tertullian urge them to adopt their more native dress by wearing the pallium instead of the toga but also he advocated that they become Christian, as they had adopted the pallium as their own vestment (On the Pallium 6.2). This sense that Christianity was the only option for those who recognized the truth comes in the conclusion to On the Testimony of the Soul. The soul, the neutral witness, possessed by pagan and Christian alike, acknowledges the truth that Christians assert and yet its pagan ‘owner’ resists this truth (On the Testimony of the Soul 6.3–6).

When we compare this with what Tertullian wrote when addressing a Christian readership, Evans’ point become clear; that Tertullian ‘suppresses the intramural arguments which he would and did have with other Christians and writes to his pagan readers marshalling all serviceable data to be garnered from widespread Christian belief and practice…’ (Evans 1976:25).

Two such early works written for Christians address the question of how they are to live their everyday lives in an overwhelmingly pagan society. On the Shows seeks to prove to Christians, especially the newly baptized, that the spectacles of Roman entertainment, whether the theatre, amphitheatre or circus, were, contrary to the views of pagans and some Christians, not consistent with Christian faith (On the Shows 5–14), Christian teaching (On the Shows 15–19) or the truth (On the Shows 20–23). Games and shows had more than entertainment value; they had a religious element in that they were dedicated to the gods and to participate in them, even as a spectator, was to engage in idolatry or to be tempted to immorality and violence, the practice of which the Christian had vowed to abandon at baptism. Human perversity had corrupted the goodness of God’s creation. The Christian knows better than does a pagan and Tertullian’s solution was to avoid entertainment spectacles altogether. He demanded a clear-cut loyalty from Christians; to go to the shows was to abandon Christianity (On the Shows 24.4).

Even though Tertullian referred to the daily chant at the amphitheatre for Christians to be thrown to the lions (On the Shows 27.1), one does not get the sense from this treatise that he felt that Christians were participating in pagan spectacles out of a fear of being singled out and liable to victimization if they did not. Those Christians who did attend were driven by their desire for self-indulgent and salvation-destroying pleasure.

In On Idolatry, Tertullian argued for a definition of idolatry that was general enough to include all other crimes within it and specific enough for it to be found in other crimes (On Idolatry 1). Not only must Christians have nothing to do with the manufacture of idols used in religious ceremonies but also they must not devote any artisan skill to that which facilitates pagan worship either (On Idolatry 8). Astrology, school teaching (although not the studying of literature), trade based on a desire to acquire or in products which could be used in pagan festivals, and the training of gladiators were all considered unacceptable professions for the Christian. For Tertullian, there could be no comeback; Christians ought to have thought about that before joining the church and, besides, Jesus called his disciples to leave security and comfort behind (On Idolatry 12). There is an extremism here and even though he acknowledged that Christians had to live with sinners, it was only allowed provided that they themselves did not sin. Here he offered an aphorism; it was permitted to live with pagans but not permitted to die with them (On Idolatry 14.5). There was a division between secular and sacred, between what belonged to Caesar and what belonged to God. Christians were to be obedient to civil authority, except where idolatry was concerned (On Idolatry 15.8). Such rigidity led to casuistry; it was lawful to be at a ceremony where honour was given to a person through sacrifice (provided that one did not participate in the sacrifice), but not to be at one where it was given to an idol (On Idolatry 16). One could enter public life provided that one could do the impossible and avoid the idolatrous trappings of office (On Idolatry 18). More explicitly, military service, because it involved violence, was completely forbidden to a Christian (On Idolatry 19). Even borrowing money, which required the taking of an oath, was classed as idolatry (On Idolatry 23). It was not an easy thing for a Christian to live in a non-Christian environment as far as Tertullian was concerned, and he wanted his fellow Christians to be clearly distinguished from their pagan neighbours in the way they lived their lives. I must disagree with Barnes (1985:100) and reject the idea that this was not Tertullian at his most rigorous. Despite the few concessions he made, his aim was clear; the church he envisaged was to be a church of saints, not of sinners.

To the Martyrs was written around the same time as these other works, probably before Apology,

and was addressed to Christians in prison awaiting trial and execution, intended as food for their spirits. Tertullian contrasted the prison in which they were incarcerated with the prison that the world, with its blindness and impurities, could be and concluded that those in prison were in fact free because the world was a far larger prison, containing a far larger number of prisoners awaiting a far more imposing judge (To the Martyrs 2.1–3). There was a sharp distinction between the world and the Christian; even those Christians not imprisoned behind bars like Tertullian himself were considered to have renounced the world as well (To the Martyrs 2.5). Here we can see the genesis of that expression that Christians were in the world but not of the world. Furthermore, those in prison were not even in the world; they had been rescued from having to deal with the ever-present paganism of gods, holidays, religious festivals, public shows, brothels, temptations, further persecution and even pagans themselves. This advantage for the spirit far outweighed the disadvantages caused to the flesh (To the Martyrs 2.7). The spirit was free in prison! Tertullian’s arguments in Apology that Christians were not segregationalists is, as we have noted, not entirely convincing because of contradictory statements; here, writing to Christians who had shown the full commitment to their faith that a rigorist and extremist like Tertullian applauded, he reveals more of his true position.

Tertullian encouraged those prospective martyrs to consider their imprisonment as training and strengthening, like that undergone by a soldier or an athlete, in order that they might obtain an everlasting crown (To the Martyrs 3.2–4). Christian life was a warfare for God and, thanks to the policies of provincial administrators, Christians were given ample opportunity to grow in virtue through trials and hardships (To the Martyrs 3.5). The work ends abruptly with a note that many of noble birth have been put to death recently for their loyalty to the contenders for the imperial crown or for their disloyalty to the victor (To the Martyrs 6.2). Presumably, the inference was that the Christian, who followed the cause not of an emperor but of God, ought to be all the more prepared to endure persecution willingly. Tertullian’s reference to the devil in the opening chapter reveals the reason he wrote this small work: fear that those in prison would backslide (To the Martyrs 1.5).

This fear dominated much of Tertullian’s thinking about Christians in the world, as we have noted already. If imprisonment was freedom and martyrdom was victory, then was Christianity merely a sect of suicide-seekers? Were those who escaped persecution only second-rate Christians? If denial of one’s faith was unacceptable in the face of trial, was any form of evasion of arrest legitimate at all?

Christian resolve in the face of persecution was being undermined by the attitude of Gnostic Christians (in particular the Valentinians), who questioned the relevance of martyrdom (Antidote for the Scorpion’s Sting 1.5–9). Some Christians had been subjected to fire, the sword and beasts; others undergo torture in prison; and others are hunted like rabbits (Antidote for the Scorpion’s Sting 1.11).

Thewhole work is a plea for the Christian to recognize that martyrdom was the will of God and that every Christian was obliged to stand firm when faced with trial. Thus, while Tertullian could accept Christians dodging persecution early in his career (On Patience 13.6; To his Wife 1.3.4), in the light of this encounter with the Valentinians and his own developing Montanism, we find him writing in about 208 or 209 that even avoiding arrest was contrary to the will of God, a view that aroused a degree of opposition (On Flight in Time of Persecution 1.1). While this treatise tells us much about internal Christian issues, it is based upon a strident rejection of any compromise with the world around them, and what seems to us today to be an unnatural desire for confrontation with the political system and its resultant persecution.

On the occasion of a military donative issued in the name of several emperors, which would have had to occur before Caracalla murdered his brother Geta in December 211,

one Christian soldier refused to wear the garland that had been awarded. Other Christian soldiers wore theirs in order not to be the object of derision from their fellow soldiers and of disciplinary action from their superior officers (On the Military Crown 1.1–2). The dissident individual was criticized by his fellow Christian soldiers as well, for drawing attention to their religious identity (On the Military Crown 1.3). Among the arguments Tertullian brought forward in support of this soldier’s defiance was not only that the wearing of the crown supported idolatry (On the Military Crown 10, 12–14) but also that by wearing the crown, soldiers were demonstrating their allegiance to the emperor when, in fact, a Christian could have allegiance to God alone. What is more, the whole occupation of being a soldier was contrary to being a Christian, even though a number of Christians had become soldiers (On the Military Crown 11).

Particularly with regard to the issue of being a soldier, we can note the difference between what he wrote in Apology and what we find in On Idolatry and On the Military Crown. I do not think it can be explained as ‘his changed outlook to military service’ (Gero 1970:294). Instead, as Evans suggested, the questions of audience and rhetorical purpose change. Tertullian’s personal view concerning the incompatibility of military service and Christianity was unchanging.

At the end of his literary career, Tertullian wrote to the proconsul in Africa, Scapula, who was in office from 212 to 213.

Unlike the forensic defence in Apology, here Tertullian argued deliberatively for a change in provincial policy to end the persecution of Christians (To Scapula 5.3).
He advocated religious freedom (To Scapula 2.1–2) and pointed out how harmless Christians were in contrast with supposedly good pagans, who had proven themselves rebellious to the emperor (To Scapula 2.3–5). In fact, Christians prayed for the safety of the emperor (To Scapula 2.6–9) and restrained the anger of God against those who persecuted (To Scapula 2.10), even as the signs of God’s intending punishment could be witnessed (To Scapula 3.1–3). Other proconsuls and legates who persecuted Christians had been punished by God (To Scapula 3.4–5) and the efforts of some provincial governors to protect Christians from unjust treatment was offered as a precedent for Scapula (To Scapula 4.2–3). Tertullian was certainly not appealing to Scapula’s better nature but to his fear of personal consequences and political unrest, which could be caused by Christians in great numbers presenting themselves for martyrdom (To Scapula 5.1–2). He even suggested to Scapula that he consider becoming a Christian as the only way to avoid his fate (To Scapula 5.4).

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