1. Life And Works Of Tertullian
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LIFE AND WORKS OF TERTULLIAN
Modern scholarship has made Tertullian a most accessible subject for the student and researcher. The critical editions of the Latin texts of all his treatises are available in two convenient volumes (Corpus Christianorum, series Latina 1 and 2). A concordance of Tertullian’s vocabulary was prepared by Gösta Claesson (Claesson 1974, 1975). Timothy Barnes has written what will long be the standard biography in English, which, in his inimitable style, revises many long-held notions about Tertullian’s life and works (Barnes 1985). There is also the annual review of publications about Tertullian in the Revue des Études Augustiniennes. Most of these reviews now appear together as a separate volume (Braun 1999). A full-length treatment of his theology has recently appeared in English (Osborn 1997a). Surveys of the trends in scholarship on Tertullian have appeared (Siniscalco 1978; Sider 1982), although they are now in need of an update. There is even a website devoted to Tertullian studies (http://www.tertullian.org/).
While the contemporary scholar is well served by these research tools, Tertullian’s life remains hidden in obscurity. The traditional picture of it was painted at the end of the fourth century by Jerome, who elsewhere described him as a ‘learned and zealous writer’ (Letter 84.2; see also 70.5), in his On Illustrious Men 53. Here, we find him mentioned as a presbyter from Carthage, whose father was a proconsular centurion, who had an impetuous temperament, who was at his prime under the Severan emperors Septimius Severus and Caracalla, who was read daily by Cyprian (who referred to him as ‘master’), who lapsed into Montanism, who wrote many works and who died in old age. To that must be added Eusebius’ comment that he was skilled in Roman law at Rome (Ecclesiastical History 2.2.4).
That information was accepted as reliable by scholars (e.g. Quasten 1953:246–7) until the publication of Barnes’ biography, which is a sustained critique of this picture. He questions or dismisses the ideas that Tertullian’s father was a centurion, that Tertullian was a presbyter, that he was a jurist and that he lived a long life. Some scholars, possessed of the same revisionist spirit, have also questioned his legal background (Fredouille 1972; Bray 1977; Rankin 1997) and even whether his Montanism meant that he became a schismatic (Powell 1975; Rankin 1986, 1995; Trevett 1996:69; Tabbernee 1997:54–5). The question of Montanism will be addressed further below. Others, though, have not been convinced by all these arguments. A number of other writers, often not specialists on Tertullian, seem to have ignored this revision almost entirely.
Where does this leave a reconstruction of Tertullian’s life? It seems to me that Barnes’ scepticism about Jerome’s sketch is well founded. In these few pages, I must rely heavily on the insights offered by Barnes, although without merely presenting a reduced paraphrase of his biography.
Tertullian’s literary career was spent in Carthage. He made several references to the city in his writings. On the Pallium is addressed to the men of Carthage (1.1). The martyr Perpetua, who died in Carthage in 203, is mentioned in On the Soul (55.4). To Scapula was written to the proconsul of the Roman province of Africa (of which Carthage was the capital), calling upon him to stop persecuting Christians in order to spare the city and province from divine wrath (5.2–3).
Septimius Tertullianus grew up as a pagan.
That Tertullian could write meant that he belonged to an elite in terms of his education, if we accept the view that literacy in the ancient world was possessed by only about ten per cent of the population (Gamble 1995:4–5). Tertullian himself acknowledged that most Christians were uneducated, even though that did not mean they were unwise (Against Praxeas 3.1). If we accept that Carthage had a population of up to 700,000 people in total (Duncan-Jones 1963; Norman 1988:16), and if we accept the ‘crude estimate’ that in the year 200 about 0.35 per cent of the population was Christian (Stark 1996:7), then we can reach the tentative conclusion that there were about 230 literate Christians in Tertullian’s time in the city. Of course, if the population of Carthage was closer to one-quarter of a million then that figure drops to about eighty-five. As susceptible as these figures are to error, they give us some indication of Tertullian’s potential for significance within the Christian community.
His education would have been thorough and there is no doubt that he progressed beyond grammar at a ‘secondary’ level to rhetoric at a ‘tertiary’ level.
That Tertullian was not a priest may be inferred from some of the comments he made in which he contrasted himself and lay Christians with clerics on the topic of second marriage and found no contrast at all (On Monogamy 12.2; On Exhortation to Chastity 7.3). Indeed, Tertullian’s claim to priesthood in On Fasting 11.4 is nothing other than the claim to the priesthood of all Christian believers found in 1 Pt 2:9.
We may even hazard a guess about his appearance and claim that he wore a beard, for he offers a stinging criticism of those who disfigure the way God created them by shaving (On the Shows 233). If he followed his own standards, we may conclude that he refrained from the stylish grooming that seemed to be the fashion, such as dyeing or setting the hair, depilating bodily hair, powdering the body and shaping the beard (On the Apparel of Women 2.8.2). He lamented the custom of the local population who abandoned the use of the pallium for the Roman toga (On the Pallium). Yet he remains a faceless figure, never the subject, as far as I know, of artistic representation.
Some of Tertullian’s treatises reveal that he had much in common with Montanism (as we know it today), or the New Prophecy as he called it. To what extent, if at all, this meant that he joined a group that was schismatic (or, to put it another way, that he left the church) continues to be debated. This movement had emerged in Phrygia in about 165– 170 with the oracles of Montanus, Maximilla and Priscilla. It was ‘a prophetic renewal movement informed by the Holy Spirit’ (Tabbernee 1997:24), which can be characterized as charismatic, ascetic, enthusiastic, innovative, spiritualist, ecstatic and rigorous. We do not know much about early Montanism, and what we do know comes from Tertullian (and we do not know the extent to which he recast Montanism to suit his own inclinations), from some inscriptions or from sources that are both antagonistic and much later. Like most renewal movements within Christian history, Montanism went through phases and cycles, and it challenged the established authority (Trevett 1996:146–9). Adherents attracted to this style of Christianity clashed with their more conventional Christians. Montanists claimed to be inspired by the Paraclete, which tended to give them a bad reputation with bishops, who wanted to be the sole source of authority within a community. They were considered to be elitist because of their more demanding and perfectionist notions of Christian life. They insisted on rigorous fasting, forbade remarriage and did not believe in the possibility of post-baptismal reconciliation of Christian sinners. They accepted women in positions of responsibility. Many of these beliefs attracted Tertullian, but the extent to which his own ideas about them or things like enthusiasm for martyrdom or eschatology derived from New Prophecy, or were projected upon it, remains unclear. The idea that Tertullian established an even more rigorous group when he grew dissatisfied with the Montanists (Augustine, On Heresies 86) has also been questioned (Barnes 1985:258–9). The notion that Tertullian’s Montanism meant that he ever left the church is one that does not seem sustainable today (Rankin 1995:27–38). I think we can support the notion that the Christian community in Carthage contained a wide cross-section of opinion and practice, Montanists included. What we do find in Tertullian, I believe, is typical of those who join elitist movements: a tendency to become increasingly intolerant of the ‘less committed’ majority, particularly over the issue of whether or not the church (and who in the church) could readmit serious sinners to communion through a penitential process. By the end of his literary career, however, he certainly did not see himself as having anything in common with Christians who did not hold to his Montanist convictions (On Modesty 1.10), even if no group actually had been declared schismatic.
The date of his death is unknown but perhaps it was not long after his final treatise in the second decade of the third century (Barnes 1985:59). His works were known in Late Antiquity, as indicated by Jerome’s comments to Florentinus about Paul wishing to get his copy of them back from Rufinus (Letter 5.2).
There are thirty-one extant treatises generally accepted as being written by Tertullian.
The third criterion, concerning the appearance of Montanist references in Tertullian’s treatises, is worthy of further comment. Any work that has one or more out of eight features is considered by Barnes to be from his Montanist period. Those features are: the naming of the three Montanist founders or their oracles, references to New Prophecy, promotion of ecstasy, reference to special spiritual gifts, reference to the Holy Spirit as Paraclete, first-person references to Montanists, second-person references to Catholics and abuse of Catholics as ‘psychici’. This draws in a catch of the following treatises: Against Marcion (particularly books four and five), Against the Valentinians, On the Soul, On the Resurrection of the Dead, On the Military Crown, On Exhortation to Chastity, On Flight in Time of Persecution, On the Veiling of Virgins, Against Praxeas, On Fasting, On Monogamy, and On Modesty. The first four have very limited references, whereas the last four seem to have the most strident abuse of those who do not support Montanism (placing them at the end of Tertullian’s literary career).
There are several treatises that provide no indication of when they were written. Barnes places them in Tertullian’s pre-Montanist phase, tentatively between 198 and 203 (Barnes 1985:55). They are To his Wife, On Baptism, On Prayer, On Repentance and On Patience. It would be my argument, however, that Tertullian could have written a work in his Montanist years, as he did with To Scapula, which displays no signs of Montanism, particularly if its contents would not have been the subject of debate between Montanists and other Christians.
A comparison of Barnes’ chronology with that offered by Fredouille reveals similarities, except for four treatises: On the Shows, Antidote for the Scorpion’s Sting, On the Pallium and On the Flesh of Christ (Fredouille 1972:487–8; Rankin 1995: xv). Even some of these differences can disappear. Given that in his postscript Barnes no longer insists on dating On the Shows and On Idolatry before Apology, the position of On the Shows in the table becomes more flexible. Also, the only point Barnes makes about On the Flesh of Christ is that it must follow On the Testimony of the Soul and precede On the Resurrection of the Dead. Thus, now that all the pre-Montanist works do not have to be before the first book Against Marcion in 207 or 208 (because its Montanist reference is likely to be a later addition), then there is nothing to stop moving On the Flesh of Christ from 206 closer to Fredouille’s preferred date of 208 to 212.
The question of dating Tertullian’s literary output, at least in relative terms, is important even if it is complex and open to much disagreement. He was a writer whose thinking about issues changed or intensified over the years, particularly with his increasingly Montanist perspective. In addition, he often revised material from one treatise and used it in another with some modifications. The other important point to note in interpreting his works is that sometimes it is not a question of him changing his mind over time but of writing with particular readerships in mind. In apologetic works written to imperial officials, he was not as critical of the Roman system as he was in works addressed to an exclusively Christian audience (Evans 1976:21–2). As anyone trained in rhetoric would have known, telling the whole truth was not the best way to win arguments. Tertullian was selective and conscious of the occasion. One cannot refer simply to one passage in one text to demonstrate Tertullian’s opinion on a matter. Instead, one needs to survey his output developmentally or comparatively, as well as rhetorically.
Even though Barnes divides Tertullian’s literary career into two phases (pre-Montanist and Montanist), nowhere does he suggest that his later works are to be treated with suspicion as heretical. Thus, I have reservations about the implications behind the names of the divisions of Tertullian’s works offered by Fredouille (Catholic, Montanistinfluenced and Montanist), which suggest that his later works are to be mistrusted because they are no longer Catholic. No work of Tertullian is unorthodox. They may be unusual and extreme but they are not heretical. Christine Trevett writes that ‘Tertullian the Montanist was Tertullian the Montanist catholic.’ (Trevett 1996:69).
I am not inclined to see two distinct phases in his literary life. There was no dramatic or sudden catharsis. His ideas certainly became sharper over time, yet there is much that is Montanist in his writings, even before his ‘Montanist period’. Again, Trevett’s words are illuminating: ‘More kindly one might describe Tertullian the spiritual high-flyer as a Montanist by instinct.’ (Trevett 1996:68). Or the question may well be less about how Montanism influenced Tertullian and more about how Tertullian’s own personality is reflected in his writings and came to shape what is remembered as Montanism. So, even though specific references to Montanism do appear in his writings at a certain point (although he never used that term), we should not make too much out of this. ‘Tertullian’s adoption of the New Prophecy in mid-career should not be read as making a significant change of direction in his religious and theological orientation.’ (Wright 2000:1029).
Another way of classifying Tertullian’s works is by their genre. Quasten grouped them into apologetic, controversial and disciplinary/ moral/ascetic categories (Quasten 1953:255–317). I think it can be said that every one of Tertullian’s treatises is controversial, in the sense that in each of them there was a situation that he saw as a problem and to which he responded with a literary solution. Each of his works deals with some controversy. This is not to deny that many of his works are also controversial in the other sense of the word, in that they offer solutions that many Christians would find harsh and extreme, especially today. He did not preach (and I use the word loosely) simply to edify or extol a congregation. He did not engage in exegesis simply to unlock the meaning of Scripture. He did not write systematic theology simply to contemplate the mysteries of God. He preached, interpreted Scripture and wrote in order to argue. He was a pugilist with a pen. Sometimes the debate was with non-Christians (the apologetic treatises). Sometimes the argument was with Christian groups that he claimed were heretical (the doctrinal treatises). Sometimes the disagreement was with other Christians about practical matters (the disciplinary treatises). In everything he wrote, however, there was some point in dispute, some quarrel to be had and some error to be corrected.
What kind of person emerges from these texts? Scholars call him a firebrand, a puritan, a misogynist, a rigorist and label him as impatient, uncompromising, fiery, passionate, ardent, harsh, sarcastic and even cruel (e.g. Daly 1993:3; Raven 1993:156). It has been said that it is not easy to like Tertullian.
There is truth in all of this. His character will emerge with even greater clarity as we consider aspects of his thinking and writing in more detail and in reading his own words. No polemicist enters the fray seeking defeat, and Tertullian was no exception. Debate promotes the notion of ‘us and them’ and forces one not to seek the truth as much as to score points. There is no room for dispassion, no room for seeing both sides of the argument and no room for objectivity when one’s object is to win. This was Tertullian’s world, at least as he presented it in what he wrote. I am not suggesting that Tertullian was ever untruthful in what he wrote, but I think it must be accepted that he would either highlight or disguise reality to suit his argument.
Tertullian’s Christianity had no room for tepidity or greyness. He had the enthusiasm and zeal of a fanatic, the rigour and clarity of the recently converted, and the intolerance and righteousness of the self-assured. He was a partisan and an extremist. Nothing less than perfection was the requirement for being his kind of Christian and, for him, there could be no other kind. There is a bluntness and directness in his writing, which sometimes verges on the obscure because of his brevity and reluctance to spell everything out.
The lasting importance of Tertullian is, principally, that he was the first Latin-writing Christian author whose works we still possess (leaving aside the question of when Minucius Felix wrote). He was responsible for much of the theological vocabulary of Western Christianity. Even if we cannot be sure that he was the first to use terms like sacramentum, trinitas, persona, substantia and satisfactio in their theological sense, it is to him that later Latin-writing theologians turned. His acerbic terseness, witty aphorisms and density of thought offer a style of Christian thinking that is not only eminently quotable but also the like of which has rarely been presented so starkly or so passionately. Further, Latin literature of any kind beyond Christianity from this period is almost entirely non-existent and Tertullian’s place in its history cannot be denied and ought not to be neglected.
He enables us to see something of African Christianity in its earliest years and, through a comparison of his thinking with other Africans, like Cyprian and Augustine, we can build up a detailed picture of Latin Christianity in one part of the Mediterranean. Novatian, the mid-third-century Roman presbyter (and would-be bishop) and theologian notwithstanding, Tertullian helped make Carthage and North Africa the leading centre of Latin Christian thinking in late antiquity.
His writings are extensive enough for him to have made a contribution on just about every aspect of early Christian life and thought. His treatment of heretics and his Montanist sympathies are an important source of information for what we know about alternative Christian groups. His interaction with non-Christians marks the culmination of second-century apologeticism. In a most articulate manner that has rarely been surpassed since, Tertullian represents a strand of Christianity that endures to this day and continues to exert a powerful influence over many. Whether his example is to be avoided or imitated, there is much in Tertullian’s writings that needs to be pondered today as Christians understand their relationships with each other and non-Christians alike.