Trades That Serve Idols

Among the arts, too, we find certain professions liable to the charge of idolatry. Astrologers ought not even to be spoken of. But since one of them has lately challenged us, arguing on his own behalf that he may keep on in that profession, I will spend a few words on it. I will not even press the point that he honors idols, whose names he has written across the sky and to whom he has handed over all the power of God — since people who take it that we are disposed of by the unalterable ruling of the stars conclude from that that God need not be looked for at all. One thing I do lay down: that the angels who deserted God, the ones who fell in love with women, were the discoverers of this prying art as well, and were condemned by God for that too. [a]

What a sentence from God — one whose force reaches all the way down to earth, and to which people bear witness without knowing it! Astrologers are expelled exactly as their angels were. The city and Italy are closed to astrologers, as heaven was closed to their angels. Pupils and masters get the same sentence: banishment.

“But Magi and astrologers came from the east.” We know how closely magic and astrology are allied. So the star-readers were the first to announce Christ’s birth and the first to bring him gifts — and by that tie, I suppose, they put Christ under an obligation to them? What of it? Is the religion of those Magi to act as a patron for astrologers now as well? Astrology these days, it seems, is about Christ; it is the science of the stars of Christ, and not of Saturn or Mars or whoever else out of that same company of dead men it serves and preaches. But in any case that science was allowed only until the good news came, so that after Christ’s birth no one should read anyone’s birth by the sky from then on. That is why they offered the infant Lord frankincense and myrrh and gold: as the closing of worldly sacrifice and worldly glory, which Christ was about to do away with.

And then what? The dream — sent, no doubt, at God’s will — told those same Magi to go home, but by another road, and not the one they came by. What that means is this: that they were not to walk in their old path. It was not so that Herod would not chase them; in fact he did not chase them, and he did not even know they had gone by another road, since he did not know which road they had come by. So we ought to understand it of the right Way and the right rule of life. The instruction was rather that from then on they should walk differently.

In the same way that other kind of magic, the kind that works by wonders and set itself up as a rival even to Moses, tried God’s patience until the good news came. From that point on, Simon the magician, only just turned believer — still with something of his conjuring trade in mind, thinking that among the wonders of his profession he might buy the gift of the Holy Spirit as well, by the laying on of hands — was cursed by the apostles and thrown out of the faith. And that other magician, the one who was with Sergius Paulus, was punished with the loss of his eyes when he set himself against those same apostles.

Astrologers, I believe, would have met the same fate if any had crossed the apostles’ path. But in any case, when magic is punished, and astrology is one kind of magic, then of course the kind is condemned along with the whole class. After the good news came you will find no sophists, Chaldeans, enchanters, diviners or magicians anywhere except plainly under punishment. “Where is the wise man? Where is the man of letters? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made the wisdom of this age foolish?” You know nothing, astrologer, if you do not know that you ought to be a Christian. And if you did know it, you should have known this too: that you ought to have nothing more to do with that profession of yours — a profession that chants out other people’s dangerous years in advance, and might have told you about its own danger. You have no part and no share in that system of yours. A man whose finger or wand misuses the sky cannot hope for the kingdom of the heavens.

We must look next at schoolmasters — and not only at them, but at every other teacher of literature. There can be no doubt at all that they are related to idolatry in more ways than one. First, they are obliged to proclaim the gods of the nations, to set out their names, their family trees and their titles of honor, one by one and all together. Beyond that, they have to keep those gods’ holy days and festivals, since it is by them that they reckon their income. What schoolmaster attends the Quinquatria without a chart of the seven idols to begin with? The first fee every pupil pays he dedicates to Minerva’s honor and to her name. So even if he cannot strictly be said to be “eating what is sacrificed to idols” — the money not having been set apart for one particular idol — he is still to be avoided as an idolater. Is he any less defiled on that account than a man whose business is publicly dedicated to an idol, in name and in fact? [k]

The Minervalia belong to Minerva as much as the Saturnalia belong to Saturn, and the Saturnalia have to be kept even by the smallest slaves. New Year’s gifts have to be grabbed at, the Septimontium kept, all the midwinter presents and the presents of the Feast of Dear Kinship collected. The schools have to be hung with garlands; the wives of the flamens and the aediles offer sacrifice; the school is honored on the appointed holy days. The same happens on an idol’s birthday. Every procession of the devil is attended. Who will think this fits a Christian teacher, unless it is the same man who thinks it fits a Christian who is not a teacher?

We know what may be said: “If teaching literature is not permitted to God’s servants, then neither is learning it. And how is a person to be trained even to ordinary human understanding, or to any sense or action at all, when literature is the training for the whole of life? How can we reject worldly studies, when studies about God cannot be carried on without them?”

So let us look at how far a literary education is necessary, and let us see that part of it cannot be allowed and part of it cannot be avoided. For believers, learning literature is permissible where teaching it is not, because the reason for learning and the reason for teaching are not the same. If a believer teaches literature, then in teaching he is certainly recommending the praises of idols scattered through it; in handing them on he is agreeing with them; in quoting them he is bearing witness to them. He sets the name of gods on those beings as a seal, while the law, as we said, forbids anyone to speak the names of gods, and forbids God’s own name to be laid on a thing that is nothing. That is how the devil gets the first article of a man’s belief laid down along with the first elements of his schooling. Ask yourself whether a man who gives instruction about idols is committing idolatry.

But when a believer learns these things, if he is already able to understand what idolatry is, he neither takes them in nor allows them; and much more so if he is not yet able. Or else, when he does begin to understand, he ought first to understand what he learned earlier — that is, about God and the faith. So he will reject those things and not take them in, and he will be as safe as a man who knowingly accepts poison from someone who does not know it is poison, and then does not drink it. Necessity is allowed him as an excuse, because he has no other way of learning. Besides, refusing to teach literature is easier than refusing to learn it, in just the same way that it is easier for a pupil to stay away from the rest of the school’s defilements — the public and school festivals — than for the master to keep clear of them.

If we go on through the other faults, tracing each back to what breeds it, let us begin with greed, “a root of all evils” — and some, caught by it, “have made shipwreck of their faith.” And greed is called idolatry by the same apostle. Next comes lying, which is greed’s servant. About swearing falsely I say nothing, since even swearing at all is not permitted. So: is trade a fit occupation for a servant of God? Leave greed aside, and what is the motive for getting more? Once the motive for getting is gone, there is no need to trade at all. [r]

Grant, though, that there is such a thing as honest business, free from the need to keep watch against greed and lying. Even so, I hold that the trade which serves the very soul and breath of idols, and pampers every demon, comes under the charge of idolatry. In fact, is it not idolatry’s chief form? The same goods — I mean frankincense and every other import — that are used to sacrifice to idols are also used by people for medicinal ointments, and by us Christians besides for the comfort of burial. Let them make of that what they will. In any case, when the processions, the priesthoods and the sacrifices of idols are supplied at your risk, your loss, your inconvenience, your planning and your running about — by your trade, in short — what else are you shown to be than an agent for idols?

Let no one object that at this rate every trade could be found fault with. The more serious the fault, the wider the field over which we must be careful, in proportion to the size of the danger — so that we may keep clear not only of the faults themselves but of the means by which they come about. For even though the wrong is done by someone else, it makes no difference if it is done by my means. I ought never to be necessary to another man while he is doing what is forbidden to me. So I ought to see that I must take care that what I am forbidden to do is not done through me.

In fact, in another matter of no lighter guilt I find that same ruling already made. Since I am forbidden sexual immorality, I supply no help and turn no blind eye to others for that purpose. Since I have kept my own body away from the brothels, I recognize that I cannot work as a pimp, or keep that kind of house for my neighbor’s use. In the same way the ban on murder shows me that a trainer of gladiators is shut out of the church as well. No one escapes being the means of a thing he supplies to someone else to do.

Here is a ruling closer still to the point. If a supplier of the public sacrificial animals comes over to the faith, will you let him stay on permanently in that trade? Or if a man who is already a believer takes up that business, will you think he should be kept in the church? No, I take it — unless someone means to look the other way for the frankincense-seller too. Truly, some deal in blood and others in scents. If, before there were idols in the world, idolatry — still shapeless then — was carried on with these goods; and if even now the business of idolatry is mostly done without an idol, by the burning of scents; then the frankincense-seller is of even more use to the demons, since idolatry is more easily carried on without the idol than without the frankincense-seller’s stock.

Let us question the conscience of the faith itself, and question it thoroughly. With what mouth will a Christian frankincense-seller, when he passes a temple, spit at the smoking altars and blow them out — the altars he stocked himself? With what consistency will he drive out the demons he has been rearing, the ones to whom he lends his own house for a storeroom? And if he does drive a demon out of someone, let him not congratulate himself on his faith: he has not driven out an enemy. His request ought to have been granted easily, coming from a man who feeds the demon every day. So no art, no profession, no trade that serves either to equip idols or to shape them can be clear of the name of idolatry — unless we take idolatry to mean something else altogether than the waiting-on of idols.

It is no use flattering ourselves about the necessities of making a living, if, once our faith has been sealed, we say, “I have no way to live.” Here I will answer that blunt statement more fully. It comes too late. Following the example of that very prudent builder, who first reckons up the cost of the work against his own means, so that once he has begun he does not have to blush at running out, the thinking should have been done beforehand. Even now you have the Lord’s own sayings, examples that take away every excuse from you. For what is it you say? [x]

“I shall be in want.” But the Lord calls those in want blessed. “I shall have no food.” But he says, “Do not think about food.” And for clothing we have the lilies as our example. “My work was what I lived on.” But: “Everything is to be sold and shared out among those in need.” “But I have to provide for my children and those who come after me.” “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the work.” “But I was under contract.” “No one can serve two masters.”

If you want to be the Lord’s disciple, you have to take up your cross and follow the Lord — your own cross, that is: your own hardships and torments, or at least your own body, which is shaped like a cross. Parents, wives and children will have to be left behind for God’s sake. And do you hesitate over arts and trades and professions, for the sake of children and parents? It was shown us there that dear ones, handicrafts and trades alike are all to be left entirely behind for the Lord’s sake: James and John, called by the Lord, leave both father and boat behind; Matthew is roused up from the tax booth; and even burying a father was too slow a business for faith. Not one of those the Lord chose for himself said, “I have no way to live.”

Faith is not afraid of famine. It knows that hunger is to be despised for God’s sake no less than any kind of death. It has learned to think nothing of life; how much more of food? “And how many people have actually met these terms?” But what is hard for men is easy for God. Still, let us take comfort in God’s gentleness and kindness in such a way that we do not indulge our “necessities” up to the point of dealings with idolatry, but keep clear of the least breath of it from a long way off, as of a plague. And not only in the cases already named, but through the whole run of human superstition — whether it is directed to its gods, or to the dead, or to kings, since all of it belongs to the same unclean spirits, and whether it works through sacrifices and priesthoods, or through shows and the like, or through holy days.

But why talk about sacrifices and priesthoods? As for shows and pleasures of that kind, we have already filled a book of their own. What has to be dealt with here is holy days and other special celebrations, which we grant sometimes to our own self-indulgence and sometimes to our fear, against the faith we all share and the rule we live by. The first point I will take issue on is this: whether a servant of God ought to share with the nations themselves in matters of this sort — in dress, in food, or in any other kind of their good cheer. [ac]

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and grieve with those who grieve” is said about brothers by the apostle, when he is urging them to be of one mind. But for purposes like these, “there is nothing shared between light and darkness,” or between life and death — or else we cancel what is written: “The world will rejoice, but you will grieve.” If we rejoice with the world, there is reason to fear that we shall grieve with the world too. So when the world rejoices, let us grieve; and when the world grieves afterward, we shall rejoice. In the same way Eleazar down among the dead, coming to his relief at Abraham’s side, and the rich man on the other side, set in the torment of fire, each settles by a matching repayment the alternating turns of bad and good that came to them.

There are certain gift-days, which for some settle a claim of honor and for others a debt of wages. “Well then,” you say, “I shall be getting back what is mine, or paying back what is another man’s.” If people have made this custom sacred to themselves out of superstition, why do you — a stranger to all their empty religion — take part in celebrations dedicated to idols? As though there were some rule about a day laid down for you as well, so that apart from keeping that particular day you could not pay a man what you owe him, or take from him what he owes you. Give me the terms you want to be dealt with on. And why go about in hiding, when you are staining your own conscience by trading on your neighbor’s ignorance? If it is known that you are a Christian, you are under temptation, and you are acting as though you were not a Christian, against your neighbor’s conscience. But if you go disguised, you are the temptation’s slave. Either way, whichever it is, you are guilty of being ashamed of God. But he says, “Whoever is ashamed of me in front of men, I too will be ashamed of him in front of my Father who is in the heavens.”