The Show Must Go On

An Analysis of Tertullian’s De Spectaculis (The Shows)

De Spectaculis is Tertullian’s blanket condemnation of all “public shows” written primarily for catechumens at the end of the second century.[1] The forbidden “public shows” includes “all public games in the circus, stadium or amphitheater, the athletic contests and gladiatorial encounters.”[2]

Tertullian’s Argument Against the Shows

Tertullian’s argument follows two main lines. First, he argues that the shows are immoral and ungodly since “the origin, history, names, ceremonies and locations show them to be but another form of idolatry.”[3] Second, he argues that the shows promote immorality and ungodliness, evidenced by the passions they incite and the morality they undermine. In short, attendance at the public shows is “not consistent with true religion and true obedience to the true God” (Ch. 1). If one is to be committed to “the Truth” through personal “consecration” and “Christian Discipline”, then “the pleasures of the public shows” are prohibited (Ch. 1).

The Shows are Idolatrous

The heathens argue that the public shows are harmless celebrations of God’s good creation. However, according to Tertullian, this is not a good reason for Christians to participate for two reasons. First, unbelievers do not have any “intimate acquaintance” with God. The extent of their knowledge of God is “by natural revelation,” leaving them unable to discern what God desires or disapproves. Second, creation has been perverted by sin. One of man’s greatest sins is that he misuses God’s creation, creating idols, and perverting the purpose of God’s created order. This abuse offends God, and alienates Him from His creation (Ch. 2).[4]

Having countered the heathen’s argument, Tertullian turns to his congregation. According to some Christians, the Bible does not directly forbid attendance at the shows. Tertullian agrees that Scripture does not explicitly forbid participation, but he argues that it clearly does in principle. He cites Psalm 1:1 as an example, even going so far as to argue that the spaces between the seats and passages around the amphitheatres are called “ways” and the matrons “sit” in “a chair.” His conclusion: “[W]ith reference to the origin of shows, every show is an assembly of the wicked” (Ch. 3).

Attending the public shows also betrays a Christian’s profession of faith sealed by baptism. At baptism, the devil and his demons are renounced, and this includes the renunciation of idolatry in its various forms. According to Tertullian, the public shows “have been given over to the devil” (Ch. 4) because of their clear connection with idolatry. The games have their origin in pagan idolatry (Ch. 5 and 6). The combats and gymnastic arts are associated with pagan gods (Ch. 11). Also, the places where the games are played are defiled by what is done inside of them, so that entering a show is the equivalent of entering a pagan temple to worship (Ch. 8). Thus, the theater is corrupt, a haunt of numerous demons (Ch. 10). Even the horses are employed by the demons (Ch. 9). In addition, the pomp and pageantry of the games points to its demonic associations, revealing that the public shows are “offensive to God” (Ch. 7). In short, “the sin of idolatry clings to the shows, in respect of their origins, their titles, their equipments, their places of celebration, their arts” (Ch. 13). Since Christians are forbidden from worshipping idols, they must abstain from the public shows.

The Shows are Immoral

Having established his first point, Tertullian argues that the shows are forbidden for moral reasons as well as their idolatrous associations. First, the lust for pleasure the public shows incite is proof of their sinfulness (Ch. 14). Second, the immodest dress of the games provokes sexual lust (Ch. 17). Furthermore, the theatre produces spiritual agitation by disturbing and exciting the Christian’s mind. This is not in accord with God’s call to peace and quiet in the Holy Spirit (Ch. 15). Therefore, such “passionate excitement is forbidden” (Ch. 16).

Even though the Bible speaks of sports, this is not an endorsement. The violent nature of the events prohibits them from being suitable entertainment for Christians. Indeed, wrestling has its origin in Satan, being patterned after the Serpent’s wrestling with Adam and Eve in Eden (Ch. 18). Even though most of the cruelty is inflicted upon the wicked and unjust, this does not justify the fierceness of the sports (Ch. 19).

The fact that the Christian does not directly participate in the shows, but only views them, is not sufficient to justify participation. It is impossible to defend the “public shows” by arguing that God looks down upon them without being defiled by them, for God looks down on all acts—good or evil—without being defiled. Like God, the Christian should only wish to look upon what is righteous and good. In light of this, Tertullian submits this principle: “Never and nowhere is it right to do what you may not do at all times and in all places” (Ch. 20). Heathens may redefine good and evil according to their passions at the moment, but Christians must not do the same. Christians should not approve of anything at the circus or theater that they would not approve of at home with their family (Ch. 21). Finally, the heroes of the public shows are not worthy of honor, for God will certainly punish those who disquiet souls, arouse passions, and create so many moods through their sports or acting (Ch. 23).

Tertullian concludes by adamantly stating that “nothing which is peculiar to the shows has God’s approval,” for the shows “were instituted entirely for the devil’s sake, and have been got up entirely with the devil’s things” (Ch. 24). Thus, “the rejection of these amusements is the chief sign to them [unbelievers] that a man has adopted the Christian faith.” (Ch. 24). Examples from Scripture and experience (Ch. 26), and the fact that God’s name is blasphemed at the public shows (Ch. 27) are further support for Tertullian’s conclusion.

The Shows are Unnecessary

Contrary to the excitement produced by the public shows, Christians should long for the pleasures of heaven (Ch. 28). The Christian faith is full of exciting stories to captivate the believer, so a Christian need not look elsewhere for entertainment (Ch. 29). Tertullian concludes by contrasting the “spectacle” of the Lord’s advent with the public shows, demonstrating its superiority over all the spectacles of the heathens (Ch. 30).

Examining Tertullian’s Arguments

It is impossible to understand Tertullian’s views apart from the backdrop of his historical-cultural context. In his day, idolatry was a major part of the social fabric of Rome. Most civil ceremonies and functions were associated with pagan gods. In reaction to this, marginalized and persecuted Christians were left with two main options: (1) plunder the Greco-Roman culture and its insights in light of the common ground it shared with Christianity, or (2) insist upon a radical opposition between Christian faith and pagan culture.[5] Tertullian chose the latter option.[6]

A Radical Response in Radical Times

I find it easy to sympathize with Tertullian’s dilemma. The idolatry that conflicted so sharply with his Christian faith must have been nearly unbearable. Even though his views may seem extreme in our contemporary setting, they surely made sense in his own historical-cultural context. When one’s views and values are marginalized, opening one up to possible persecution, it is easy to view culture with a black-and-white, us-versus-them mentality. When viewed from this perspective, Tertullian’s arguments are—for the most part—strong. A radical response in radical times seems understandable, if not appropriate.

Tertullian’s warnings concerning the danger of idolatry, the enticement and deception of pleasures, and desensitization to violence and cruelty are also, in principle, wholly appropriate. The strength of his message lies in the fact that these things are legitimate dangers to all believers and must be guarded against with sober vigilance.

Seeking to Prove the Impossible

The weakness of many of his arguments stems from his conclusion that all attendance at all public shows is strictly forbidden to all Christians. Since Scripture does not directly address this issue (a point of which Tertullian was well aware), he must prove this absolute prohibition through inference, implication, and principle. Furthermore, he must prove that there is absolutely nothing good in any aspect of the public shows. Tertullian’s argument loses its force if his opponents are able to find anything of value in the public shows. Therefore, in order to prove that Christians must completely reject all public shows, Tertullian must absolutely purge them of any good element whatsoever. Because of this, many of his arguments involve painting things far darker than warranted. It is this extremism—exposed in his inability to see anything good whatsoever in the public shows— that actually reduces the strength of his arguments. [7]

One of the ways Tertullian wipes out any possibility for finding anything of value in the public shows is by arguing that the mere presence of even a small amount of evil completely corrupts the entire show. “Anything of idolatry whatever… taints it” (Ch. 7). Or, again: “The tiny streamlet from its very spring-head, the little twig from its very budding, contains in it the essential nature of its origin” thus defiling the whole (Ch. 7).

If it only takes a little association with idolatry or immorality to render a whole event evil, what then remains untainted in this world? Is there any event or place where perfect purity abounds? Is one limited to retreating to the Eucharist as the only island of holiness in this world? Furthermore, the picture this paints concerning the nature of righteousness is demeaning to the moral power of purity. Is holiness so fragile that it falls to pieces in the presence of evil? Is God’s creation so delicate that it cannot stand in the presence of anything but perfect purity?

In our contemporary setting, this argument is often used to attack the value of a movie or television show because of one brief nude scene or one graphic act of violence. Although one could argue about the necessity or appropriateness of individual scenes in a movie, if the overall story is meaningful, then the value of the movie cannot be judged based on one scene, but on the totality of all scenes in a cohesive whole. If we are going to limit our participation to only those movies which are morally and aesthetically perfect from beginning to end without any hint of flaw or blemish, then we are doomed to completely remove ourselves from any human venture altogether.

One illustration that has repeatedly made its way to my email box over the past year is guilty of this mistake. In essence, the writer of the illustration asked the reader if he or she would be willing to eat a sumptuous meal if they knew in advance that it contained bits of dog dung in it. The writer’s point was that even the slightest bit of evil corrupts everything it touches. The error in this illustration is that nothing then is open for our participation, for perfect purity is reserved for the eschaton. While we await this, we do not have the liberty to disengage completely from cultural participation. Instead, we must seek to discern good from evil, and also seek to discover whatever is redeemable, good, honorable, or true in all we encounter—for the nature of grace is to give blessing rather than cursing, to encourage rather than condemn. Furthermore, this error assumes that goodness is so fragile and weak that it merely takes a small amount of evil to overthrow the good. If this is the case, nothing is purely good in this world, and thus, everything is off limits!

This brings me back to Tertullian. Was there anything redeemable or honorable whatsoever in the public shows? Or were they completely wicked from the core to the periphery? I find it hard to believe that there was absolutely nothing of value in the public shows, and therefore, Tertullian’s arguments seem strained.

One wonders if there is any common ground in Tertullian’s world where the believer and unbeliever may meet together and mutually dialogue. It would seem that this is necessary in order to fulfill our evangelical mission to the world. Yet, in Tertullian’s opinion, “even the streets, and the market-place, and the baths, and the taverns, and our very dwelling-places, are not altogether free from idols. Satan and his angels have filled the whole world” (Ch. 8). Even colors can take on demonic overtones (“red was dedicated… to Mars, and white… to the Zephyrs, while green was given to Mother Earth”, Ch. 9). These comments are further examples of Tertullian’s overstating his case, and therefore, weakening his position. Couldn’t one also argue that red is associated with the blood of Christ, white with forgiveness, and green with life on God’s good earth?

Being convinced of the dogmatic nature of his prohibition, Tertullian declares that abstinence from the public shows is the chief mark of a Christian. This mark is similar to the contemporary “separatists” mark—a mark that has more to do with what is not present in a believer’s life, than with what is. “[T]he rejection of these amusements is the chief sign to them [unbelievers] that a man has adopted the Christian faith.” (Ch. 24). But is this truly the chief sign to unbelievers that we are disciples of Christ? Is this all that makes a Christian—his or her refusal to attend public shows? No, the mark of the believer is not separatism, but love. “By this shall all men know you are my disciples, by the love you have for one another” (John 13:34-35). The Christian’s mark should be active love demonstrated in works of compassion and mercy. A rock could display Tertullian’s “chief sign”.

Perhaps it is this lack of compassion that explains Tertullian’s glee when considering the coming doom of the wicked in violent and fiery destruction. His delight in what he terms “the spectacle of the Lord’s coming” (contrasting this with the heathens’ public shows) borders on being heartless and cruel, where the sufferings of the wicked become his source of entertainment and delight (Ch. 30). On that great day when all is revealed, perhaps this may be the case, but it seems to stifle compassion, pity, and love to those who need it most in the world right now.

Learning from Tertullian

Tertullian’s historical-cultural context did much to determine his radical response to the public shows. In the same way, our historical-cultural context does much in guiding our responses to things that appear to threaten or undermine our Christian faith. We must always pay particular attention when our prescriptions for holiness exceed the clear commands of God. Furthermore, we must always remain attentive to how much our context does influence how we apply the principles of Scripture to our unique circumstances and choices. We must never allow the dictates of our conscience to become the demands of Scripture for others if the Scriptures are either silent or the inferences we make are not watertight (which is rarely the case).

Even if Tertullian’s arguments were indisputable, it would be impossible to directly apply his conclusions in our cultural context. For example, it is clear that sports in our culture do not convey the same idolatrous associations they did in Tertullian’s time. Indeed, there are many positive aspects of sports—teamwork, discipline, structure through rules, to name a few—that should be recognized and valued. Though some people may idolize sports, there are clearly no explicit idolatrous associations. The same goes with the theater. Many positive things could be said for all the valuable contributions of shared narratives that the theater provides. Furthermore, many of the skills and talents involved in bringing a story to life are praiseworthy.

Even though Christianity is marginalized in our culture, it is not yet openly persecuted. The opportunities for common ground with unbelievers remain great. We should plunder these possibilities to the best of our abilities without falling prey to the dangers of idolatry, immorality, or enculturation. Obviously, one’s abilities to engage with our culture will be individually defined, based on the maturity, tastes, and interests of each individual Christian. However, a wholesale rejection of anything within culture without direct Biblical warrant is always unhelpful to the life of the Body—stifling its diversity through an artificial unity.

Finally, we must always remember that grace is greater than sin, God’s goodness is greater than the world’s evil, and God’s truth is greater than the world’s deceptions. We have no reason to fear and every reason to courageously plunder our culture for all the possible good we can find in it. To refuse to do so is to abandon our missionary mandate as Christians and our created purpose as human beings.

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© Richard J. Vincent, May 1, 2002