Cyprian & Lactantius · a new plain-English translation from the original language
You, Demetrianus, have often barked at me and railed against the one true God through a mouth given to sacrilege and words steeped in impiety, and out of a certain modesty I chose to look past you, judging it wiser to meet an ignorant man's error with silence than to stir a madman's fury by answering him. And this silence was not without warrant from divine teaching itself, for it is written that one ought to keep silent before a witless man's ears, since if he hears it he will only mock sensible speech; and it is written too that a fool's folly deserves no reply, for the one who answers risks becoming just like him. In the same way we are ordered to guard what is sacred deep in our own hearts rather than fling it before swine and dogs, since the Lord himself declared: give not what is holy to the dogs, and throw not your pearls in front of pigs, or they will grind them underfoot. For since you kept coming to me driven more by a taste for contradiction than any wish to learn, and, bawling loudly, chose to hurl out your own words shamelessly rather than hear mine out patiently, it seemed useless to argue with you at all, for it would have been simpler and less strenuous to quiet the churning waves of a raging sea with mere shouting than to rein in your fury through debate. Certainly it is wasted labor and no use at all to offer light to the blind, speech to the deaf, wisdom to the brute, since the brute cannot perceive, the blind cannot admit light, nor the deaf hear.
Considering these things I have often kept silent, and by patience overcome impatience, since I could neither teach one unteachable, nor restrain an impious man by religion, nor curb a raging one by gentleness. But since you say that a great many complain, and that the blame for the frequent rising of wars, for plague, for the ravages of famine, and for the long droughts that withhold rain and showers, is laid upon us, it is no longer right to stay silent, lest our silence come to be seen not as modesty but as a lack of confidence, and lest, by disdaining to refute false accusations, we seem to admit the charge. I answer, then, both you, Demetrianus, and equally those others whom you have perhaps stirred up, having by sowing hatred against us with your slanderous words made yourself many companions who sprang from the same root and origin as you; though I believe they will admit the reasonableness of what I say. For one who was moved toward evil by a deceiving lie will be moved far more readily toward good by the truth.
You have said that all these things by which the world is now shaken and driven are brought about through us, and that they ought to be charged to us, because our gods are not worshipped by us. On this point, since you are ignorant of the knowledge of God and a stranger to the truth, you ought first to know this: that the age has already grown old, and does not stand with the strength it once had, nor keep the vigor and force by which it formerly prevailed. Even were we silent, and brought forward no proofs from the sacred scriptures and divine pronouncements, the world itself now speaks and, by the visible failing of things, testifies to its own decline. There is not so great an abundance of rain in winter to nourish the seed, nor the accustomed blaze of summer heat to ripen the crops; the springtime is not so joyful in its mildness, nor the autumn so fruitful in its yield of trees. Less marble is quarried from mountains dug out and exhausted; the mines, already spent, yield less silver and gold, and the poor veins grow shorter day by day. Everywhere there is falling off and failure: the farmer in his fields, the sailor upon the sea, the soldier in the camp, honesty in the marketplace, justice in the courts, harmony among friends, skill in craft, discipline in behavior -- all decline together. Do you think that so great a substance of a thing grown old can still be as strong as it once was able to be, when still new and vigorous in its youth? Whatever now, with its end already near, sinks toward its setting and its last stage, must necessarily diminish. So the sun at its setting casts its rays with less bright and fiery splendor; so the moon, its course now declining, grows thin with worn horns; and the tree that was once green and fruitful, its branches withering, afterward becomes barren, disfigured by old age; and the spring that once flowed abundantly from overflowing veins, failing with age, scarcely trickles out a meager drop. Such is the verdict pronounced over the world; such is God's law -- whatever has arisen must fall, whatever has grown must age, whatever is strong must weaken, whatever is great must shrink, and once weakened and diminished, all things come at last to an end. Yet you charge it to the Christians that individual things diminish while the world grows old.
What if old men, too, were to charge it to the Christians that they have less strength in old age, that they no longer thrive as before in keenness of hearing, swiftness of foot, sharpness of eye, bodily vigor, richness of the inner organs, fullness of limb; and that, though a human lifespan once ran on past eight or nine centuries, it is now hardly able to touch even a hundred years. We see gray hairs on children; hair falls out before it has finished growing; and a lifetime does not end in old age but begins from old age. So even at its very rising, birth already hastens toward its end; whatever is now born decays because the world itself has grown so old, and for this reason no one should be surprised that particular things within it have started to fail, given that the world as a whole already stands in decline, near its close.
Now as for wars growing ever more frequent, barrenness and famine piling up dread, health collapsing under savage sickness, and the human race being ravaged by plague and death -- understand that this too was foreseen: in the final age troubles would grow numerous and calamities would take on new forms, and as judgment day drew closer the anger of an offended God would blaze up ever hotter against the blows dealt to mankind. These things do not come about, whatever your baseless grievance and your ignorance of the truth may loudly claim, on account of our neglect of your gods -- rather, they happen because you fail to worship God. For he is the master and governor of the world; everything moves at his command and by his will, and nothing whatsoever occurs unless he brings it about or allows it to occur. So, plainly, when events unfold that reveal the fury of an angered God, this is not on account of us, who worship him, but is imposed for the guilt and wrongdoing of you people -- you who neither look for God nor fear him, nor, casting off empty superstitions, acknowledge the one true worship, by which the single God common to all should be honored and petitioned by everyone alike.
Hear him himself speaking, hear him instructing and warning us with his divine voice: you shall worship the Lord your God, he says, and him alone shall you serve; and again: you shall have no other gods besides me; and again: do not go after foreign gods to be their servants, and give them no reverence, lest you stir me to anger by the work of your own hands, bringing about your ruin. A prophet as well, full of the Holy Spirit, testifies and proclaims God's wrath, saying: so speaks the Lord of hosts -- because my house stands empty while each of you hurries to your own house, the sky above will hold back its dew and the ground will withhold its yield, and I will send a sword against the land, against the grain, the wine and the oil, against people and livestock, and against every labor of human hands. Likewise another prophet repeats and says: I will send rain upon one city and not send rain upon another; one part will be rained upon, and the part upon which I do not send rain will dry up; and two and three cities will gather into one city to drink water, and even so they will not be satisfied; yet you have not turned back to me, says the Lord.
See, the Lord is indignant and angry, and he threatens because you do not turn back to him; and do you marvel or complain, in the midst of this obstinacy and contempt of yours, if rain falls but rarely from above, if the ground lies squalid with dust, if the barren soil scarcely brings forth thin and pale grass, if hail beats down and weakens the vine, if a storm uproots and strips the olive, if drought dries up the spring, if a pestilential breath corrupts the air, if a diseased condition consumes a man -- since all these things come as provoked by sin, and God is provoked all the more when even such great punishments do no good. That these things happen either for the discipline of the stubborn or the punishment of the wicked, that same God declares in the sacred scriptures, saying: in vain I struck your children, they received no discipline. And a prophet devoted and consecrated to God answers to this very thing and says: you struck them and they did not grieve; you scourged them and they would not accept discipline. See, blows are inflicted by divine power and there is no fear of God; see, from above there is no lack of lashes and scourges, and no trembling, no dread at all. Suppose this reckoning played no part whatsoever in the affairs of men -- would not the boldness for crime grow far greater still among people who felt safe from punishment?
You complain that now the springs are less abundant for you, and the breezes less wholesome, and the rain less frequent, and the earth less fertile in its service, that the elements no longer serve your comforts and pleasures as they should. But it is you who are the slave of God, through whom all things serve you; you are the servant of him at whose nod all things serve you. You yourself exact servitude from your own slave, and force one man to obey and submit to another, though you share the same lot of birth, the same condition of dying, a like material of body, a common reason of soul, and by equal right and the same law you both come into this world and later depart from it; and yet unless service is rendered to you at your own pleasure, unless obedience is given to your will, you, an overbearing and excessive demander of servitude, scourge, beat, and often afflict and torment with hunger, thirst, nakedness, the sword, and prison. And do you not recognize the Lord your God, when you yourself exercise such lordship?
Rightly, then, God's scourges and blows are not lacking amid the plagues that assail you. And since these accomplish nothing here, and do not, for all the terror of such disasters, turn men one by one back to God, there remains afterward an eternal prison and unceasing flame and unending punishment, and there the groan of those who beg for mercy will not be heard, because here too the terror of an indignant God went unheard, though he cries out through the prophet and says: listen to the word of the Lord, sons of Israel, for the Lord brings a case against those who dwell in the land, since neither mercy, nor truth, nor the knowledge of God exists anywhere on earth; cursing, deceit, killing, theft, and adultery have overrun the land, and blood is mingled with blood upon blood. For this the land will grieve, together with everyone living in it, with the wild animals of the countryside, the creeping things of the earth, the birds overhead, and even the fish of the sea will be swept away, so that no one is left to render judgment or to prove another wrong. God says he is indignant that the knowledge of God is not on the earth, and that God is neither known nor feared. God condemns and calls to account the wrongs of falsehood, of lust, of deceit, of cruelty, of impiety, of frenzy, and no one turns to innocence. See, the very things foretold beforehand in the words of God are coming to pass, yet trust in what is happening now moves no one to plan ahead for what comes next. Even amid these very adversities, by which the soul, hardly able to breathe, is hemmed in and confined, men still find leisure to be wicked, and in such great dangers judge not themselves but rather each other. You are indignant that God is indignant, as though by living wickedly you deserved any good thing, as though all these things that happen were not still less and lighter than your sins.
You who judge others, be for once a judge of yourself as well; look into the hidden places of your own conscience -- or rather, since there is now no shame at all in wrongdoing, and men sin as though sinning itself pleased more, you who appear plain and exposed to everyone's view, look at yourself too. You may be swollen with pride, greedy and grasping, fierce with rage, undone by dice, drunk on wine, consumed by jealousy, corrupted by lust, brutal in cruelty -- yet you still wonder why God's anger against the punishment of mankind keeps growing, when what deserves punishment increases with every passing day? You complain that an enemy rises up, as though, even were there no foreign enemy, there could be peace among citizens wearing the same toga; as though, even if arms and dangers from foreign barbarians were held in check, the weapons of domestic assault would not rage more fiercely and grievously within, through the slanders and injuries of powerful citizens. You complain of barrenness and famine, as though drought made a greater famine than greed does, as though the burning heat of want did not grow fiercer from the hoarding of grain supplies and the piling up of prices. You complain that the sky is shut against rain, while granaries here on earth are so cheated. You complain that fewer children are born, as though what has been born were made available to the needy. You accuse plague and pestilence, when by that very plague and pestilence the crimes of individuals are either exposed or increased, since even the sick are shown no mercy, and greed and plunder gape after the dead. The same men who are timid toward the duty of piety are reckless for impious gain, shunning the burials of the dying while grasping after what the dead leave behind, so it appears the poor sufferers are perhaps left to their illness precisely for this reason -- that while being tended they might not be able to escape; for he who seizes a dying man's property has wished for that man's death.
So great a terror of disasters cannot teach innocence, and amid a people dying in constant slaughter no one considers that he too is mortal. Men run about everywhere, snatching, seizing -- no concealment of plunder, no hesitation, as if it were lawful, as if it were owed, as if the one who does not rob would feel the loss and expense himself -- so does each man hasten to snatch. Even among robbers there is some shame at their crimes, after a fashion; they love trackless throats of land and deserted wastes, and even there, though wrong is done, still the criminal's deed is veiled by darkness and night. Greed rages openly, and, safe in its own boldness, displays the weapons of headlong desire in the very light of the forum. From it come forgers, from it poisoners, from it assassins in the middle of the city, as quick to sin as they are unpunished in sinning. It is the guilty who commit the crime, yet no one innocent steps forward to punish it. There is no fear of accuser or judge; the wicked win impunity, while the modest keep silent, the guilty are afraid, and those who should sit in judgment are bought. And so through the prophet, by divine spirit and inspiration, the truth of the matter is set forth, and a sure and manifest reasoning is shown: that the Lord could prevent adversities, but that the deserts of sinners keep him from bringing help. Is the hand of the Lord not strong enough, he says, to save, or will he make his ear heavy so as not to hear? But your sins separate you from God, and because of your offenses he turns his face from you, so as not to show mercy. Let sins and offenses, then, be reckoned, let the wounds of conscience be considered, and let every man cease his grievances against God or against us, once he recognizes that his suffering is nothing more than what he has earned.
And now see this very thing, which is above all the subject of our discourse: that you make war on the guiltless, that out of scorn for God you strike at and crush those who serve him. Is it not enough that your life is stained by the manifold variety of raging vices, by the wickedness of savage crimes, by the profit of bloody plunder, that false superstitions have toppled true religion, that God goes altogether unsought and unfeared -- must you further demand, with unjust persecutions, the blood of God's servants, those consecrated to his majesty and divine power? That you refuse to worship God yourself is not sufficient for you; beyond this you must also chase down, with sacrilegious violence, those who do worship him. You neither worship God nor allow him to be worshipped at all, and while all others please you who venerate not only these silly idols and images made by human hand, but even certain monstrosities and prodigies, only the worshipper of God displeases you. Everywhere in your temples smoke the pyres of sacrificed victims and the burnt offerings of cattle, while God's altars are either nonexistent or hidden. Crocodiles and dog-headed gods and stones and serpents are worshipped, and God alone on earth is either not worshipped, or it is not safe to worship him. You strip the innocent, the just, dear to God, of house, you plunder them of inheritance, you weigh them down with chains, you shut them in prison, you punish them with beasts, with sword, with fire. Nor are you even content with a swift end to our sufferings and the brief simplicity of quick punishments; you apply long torments to bodies to be torn apart, you multiply repeated torments for entrails to be mangled, and your ferocity and savagery cannot even be satisfied with the usual torments -- your ingenious cruelty devises new punishments.
What is this insatiable madness for butchery, this unquenchable lust for cruelty? Pick, instead, between two possibilities: being a Christian is a crime, or it isn't. If it is a crime, why don't you put to death the man who admits it? If it is not, why hunt down someone innocent? Had I denied it, torture would have been warranted for me. Had I, fearful of your punishment, hidden behind a lie what I once was and pretended that your gods still had my worship, then torture would rightly have been mine, then I should have been forced by pain toward confessing the charge -- exactly as, in every other trial, defendants are tortured once they deny the crime laid against them, so that the truth of what was done, unobtainable from an accuser's testimony, is wrung out through bodily suffering. But as things stand, when I confess freely and proclaim it aloud, declaring again and again in my own words that I am a Christian, and when I tear down your gods not in some hidden corner but openly, in public, right in the forum with magistrates and governors listening -- why inflict torments on someone who already confesses? So that, if your earlier charge against me was too slight, it may now swell into something deserving still greater hatred and punishment. Why, when I announce that I am a Christian before a crowd with people gathered round, and refute you and your gods with a plain, public statement, why do you turn instead to the body's weakness, why do you wrestle with frail earthly flesh? Come at me with strength of spirit instead, shatter the courage of my mind, tear down my faith, beat me in debate if you are able, beat me with reason.
Or, if your gods truly possess any divine power and might, let them stand up for themselves and rise to their own defense through their own greatness. Yet what can they possibly give their worshippers, if they cannot even take vengeance on their own behalf against those who refuse to worship them? For whoever avenges is greater than whoever is avenged -- which makes you greater than your own gods. And if you surpass those you worship, then worship should flow from them toward you, not from you toward them. Just as captives owe their survival to a guard's watch, so too your gods, once wronged, owe their protection entirely to your vengeance. Reflect on what that means: you shield them, so worshipping them should embarrass you; they depend on your protection, so hoping for safety from them should embarrass you all the more.