Minucius Felix, Octavius 37
What a magnificent spectacle a Christian offers God when he faces suffering head-on, steeling himself against threats, punishments, and tortures. He snatches away death's terror and the executioner's horror and tramples them underfoot. He asserts his freedom against kings and princes, yet yields to God alone, to whom that freedom belongs. As a conqueror and victor, he mocks the very judge who sentenced him, for the true victor is the one who gains what he strives for.
What soldier would not court danger more boldly under the emperor's gaze? No one receives a reward without being tested, yet the emperor cannot give what he does not possess: he cannot prolong life, only honor military service. But God's soldier is never abandoned in suffering, nor does death finish him. A Christian may look wretched, but he cannot be found wretched.
You yourselves exalt tragic figures to the heavens—Mucius Scaevola, who would have perished at enemy hands after failing to assassinate a king, had he not thrust his own right hand into the fire. And how many of ours have endured not just a hand, but their entire bodies being burned and consumed, without a single cry, even though release was in their power? Do I compare our people with Mucius, or with Aquilius or Regulus? Our boys and young women, strengthened by the patience that suffering inspires, laugh at crosses, torments, wild beasts, and every terror of punishment.
You do not understand, you wretched ones, that no one willingly undergoes punishment without reason, and no one can endure torture without God. Perhaps you are deceived because, in your ignorance of God, you overflow with riches, flourish in honors, and wield great power. Miserable creatures! You are lifted higher only to fall deeper. Like victims fattened for slaughter, like sacrificial beasts crowned for the altar, you are prepared for punishment. Some are raised to empire and dominion so that their genius may freely traffic in the licentiousness of a lost mind's power. Without knowledge of God, what solid happiness can exist when death is like a dream—slipping away before it can be grasped?
Are you a king? You fear as much as you are feared, and despite your vast retinue, you face danger alone. Are you rich? Fortune is a poor credit risk; a massive fortune does not provision life's brief journey—it burdens it. Do you glory in fasces and purple? That is a vain human error and an empty cult of dignity: to shine in purple while the mind grows sordid. Are you noble by birth? Do you praise your parents? We are all born to the same lot; only virtue distinguishes us.
Therefore we, who are judged by our character and our sense of shame, rightly abstain from your wicked pleasures, pomp, and spectacles. We know their sacred origins, and we condemn their harmful allurements. In the curule games, who does not shudder at the insanity of a populace rioting against itself? In the gladiatorial games, you witness the discipline of homicide. In the scenic games, turpitude is no less, only prolonged by fury: now the mime exposes or enacts adulteries; now the effeminate actor, while feigning love, inflicts it. The same performer dishonors your gods by portraying rapes, sighs, and hatreds. With simulated pains, he provokes your tears through empty gestures and nods. Thus you commit homicide in truth, but weep in falsehood.
Latin
Quam pulchrum spectaculum Deo, quum Christianus cum dolore congreditur, quum adversum minas et supplicia et tormenta componitur; quum strepitum mortis55 et horrorem carnificis irripiens inculcat; quum, libertatem suam adversus reges et principes erigit, soli Deo, cujus est, cedit; quum triumphator et victor, ipsi qui adversum se sententia dixit, stultat ! Vicit enim qui quod contendit obtinuit. Quis non miles sub oculis imperatoris audacius periculum provocet? nemo enim praemium percipit ante experimentum: et imperator tamen, quod non habet, non dat; non potest propagare vitam, potest honestare militiam. At enim Dei miles nec in dolore deseritur, nec morte finitur. Sic Christianus miser videri potest, non potest inveniri. Vos ipsi calamitosos viros fertis ad coelum, Mucium Scaevolam, qui, quum errasset in regem, periisset in hostibus, nisi dexteram perdidisset. Et quot ex nostris non dextram solum, sed totum corpus uri, cremari, sine ullis ejulatibus, pertulerunt, quum dimitti praesertim haberent in sua potestate? Viros cum Mucio, vel cum Aquilio aut Regulo comparo? Pueri et mulierculae nostrae cruces et tormenta, feras et omnes suppliciorum terriculas, inspirata patientia doloris, illudunt. Nec intelligilis, o miseri, neminem esse qui, aut sine ratione velit poenam subire, aut tormenta sine Deo posse sustinere. Nisi forte vos decipit, quod, Deum nescientes, divitiis affluant, honoribus floreant, polleant potestatibus. Miseri! in hoc altius tolluntur, ut decidant altius. Hi enim, ut victimae, ad supplicium saginantur; ut hostiae ad poenam, coronantur. In hoc adeo quidam imperiis ac dominationibus eriguntur, ut ingenium eorum perditae mentis licentiae potestatis libere nundinentur: absque enim notitia Dei, quae potest esse solida felicitas, quum mors sit somnio similis? antequam tenetur, elabitur. Rex es? et tam times quam timeris: et, quamlibet sis multo comitatu stipatus, ad periculum tamen solus es. Dives es? sed fortunae male creditur, et magno viatico breve vitae iter non instruitur, sed oneratur. Fascibus et purpuris gloriaris? vanus error hominis et inanis cultus dignitatis, fulgere purpura, mente sordescere. Nobilitate generosus es? parentes tuos laudas? Omnes tamen pari sorte nascimur; sola virtute distinguimur. Nos igitur qui moribus et pudore censemur, merito malis voluptatibus et pompis vestris et spectaculis abstinemus: quorum et de sacris originem novimus, et noxia blandimenta damnamus. Nam in ludis curulibus, quis non horreat populi in se rixantis insaniam? In gladiatoriis, homicidii disciplinam? In scenicis etiam non minor furore turpitudo prolixior: nunc enim mimus vel exponit adulteria, vel monstrat; nunc enervis histrio amorem dum fingit, infligit. Idem deos vestros, induendo stupra, suspiria, odia, dedecorat. Idem, simulatis doloribus, lacrymas vestras vanis gestibus et nutibus provocat. Sic homicidium in vero flagitatis, in mendacio fletis.