The City of God, Volume I

Augustine then analyzes Varro’s tripartite division of theology into mythical, natural, and civil kinds. Varro condemns the mythical theology—the stories of the poets—as base and unworthy of the gods, filled with tales of theft, adultery, and servitude. However, Augustine argues that the civil theology, which consists of the rites performed by citizens and priests, as well as the natural theology of the philosophers, are inextricably linked to it. He asserts that the gods of the theatre are the same as the gods of the temple; the state instituted the theatre to honor these gods, proving that their rites are fundamentally theatrical and obscene. Augustine provides extensive evidence to demonstrate that the civil theology incorporates the very abominations found in the myths. He cites the presence of Priapus in both the stage and the shrine, noting that the Priapus of the priests is no less obscene than the Priapus of the players. He further points to the absurdity of those who placed Jupiter’s wet nurse in the Capitol, asking what they thought of Jupiter himself by such an act, and noting that it bears witness to the historian Euhemerus, who wrote that all such gods had been men and mortals. Additionally, Augustine highlights those who appointed the Epulones as parasites at the table of Jupiter, arguing that they wished for nothing but mimic sacred rites; if a mimic had said this on stage, he would be seeking laughter, yet Varro records it as a serious account of Capitoline laws. The distinction between the stage and the altar is non-existent; the demons who delight in the fables are the same spirits who receive the sacrifices.

He further recounts the tale of the sacristan of Hercules who gambled with the god and hired a prostitute, a story so shameful that if a poet had invented it, it would be rejected as a fable, yet it is accepted as a sacred event. Augustine contrasts the public theatrical performances with the secret rites of the Mother of the Gods and Ceres, arguing that the latter, involving mutilated priests (Galli) and lamentations for dead youths, are far more detestable than anything seen on stage. He contends that the “natural” or allegorical interpretations offered by pagans cannot excuse these immoralities. If Saturn devouring his children can be interpreted allegorically to mean time consuming its own products, then the myths could likewise be excused, yet Varro rejects the myths while upholding the rites. Augustine suggests Varro implicitly exposed the falsity of civil theology by linking it to the fabulous, hoping the reader would reject both in favor of the natural theology of the philosophers. By showing that the civil theology is essentially a collection of fabulous fables enacted by the state, Varro, whether intentionally or not, guides the discerning reader to despise both and embrace only the natural theology of the philosophers. The physical interpretations of the rites, such as castration symbolizing the pruning of seeds, do not remove the moral stain of the acts themselves, which are contrary to nature and decency.

Augustine continues his refutation by mocking the minute specialization of the gods, such as Educa for food and Potina for drink, arguing that such divisions are more consistent with mimic buffoonery than divine majesty. He notes that if a human master were to employ two nurses for an infant, one giving nothing but food and the other nothing but drink, he would be considered foolish for performing in his house a thing worthy of a mimic. Yet, the pagans have established two goddesses for these precise functions, Educa and Potina, thereby reducing the care of human life to a series of trivial, distinct divine interventions. He turns his attention to the obscene deities presiding over human physiology and marriage, arguing that their presence turns the marriage bed into a scene of immodesty and buffoonery. He lists the gods who are invoked at the various stages of the wedding process: Jugatinus presides over the joining of the couple; Domiducus brings the wife home; Domitius ensures she is in the house; and Manturna keeps her there. However, the intrusion of the divine into the marital chamber becomes even more ridiculous when the act of consummation itself is micromanaged by a host of deities. Augustine cites the goddess Virginiensis, who loosens the virgin’s girdle; the god Subigus, who presses the woman down beneath the man; the goddess Prema, who holds her in place; and the goddess Pertunda, who presides over the physical act of penetration. He argues that if the gods themselves are present during such intimate moments, they ought to inspire shame rather than assistance. The very existence of a goddess like Pertunda, or the presence of Priapus, whose immense member is displayed for the bride, demonstrates that this theology is not merely false but lascivious and corrupt. Augustine notes that if a single god, such as Venus, were insufficient for this task, the multiplication of such deities serves only to turn a sacred human union into a farce worthy of a mime, not a solemnity worthy of religion.

Beyond the confines of the marriage bed, Augustine extends his critique to the gods of agriculture and childbirth, highlighting the specific rituals required to protect new mothers from the god of Silvanus. He explains that three minor deities are appointed as guardians to ward off Silvanus, who is depicted as a rough and uncultivated woodland deity prone to molesting women in childbirth. To signify the presence of these protectors, three men are required to circle the house during the night, performing symbolic actions with agricultural implements. First, they strike the threshold with a hatchet to represent the cutting of trees; second, they strike it with a pestle to represent the grinding of grain; and third, they sweep it with a broom to represent the heaping of corn. From these three actions, three specific gods are named: Intercidona, from the cutting made by the hatchet; Pilumnus, from the pestle; and Diverra, from the broom. Augustine mocks the notion that the guardianship of kindly-disposed gods would not suffice against the malice of a mischievous god unless they were three to one, fighting against him with opposing emblems of cultivation. He argues that this reveals a theology where the gods are as weak and quarrelsome as men, requiring numerical superiority and the use of axes, pestles, and brooms to defend against one another. This elaborate ritual, filled with petty deities like Silvanus, Intercidona, Pilumnus, and Diverra, portrays the divine realm as trivial and contentious, utterly incapable of granting eternal life. Augustine further points out the contradiction in Varro’s distinction between the religious man and the superstitious man; if the gods are truly benevolent and innocent, as Varro claims, why would they require such elaborate defenses against the malice of one of their own kind? The necessity of these rituals betrays the petty, quarrelsome, and ridiculous nature of these so-called deities, rather than their benevolence.