How to Think About God Read online

  HOW TO THINK ABOUT GOD

  ANCIENT WISDOM FOR MODERN READERS

  ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄

  How to Think about God: An Ancient Guide for Believers and Nonbelievers by Marcus Tullius Cicero

  How to Keep Your Cool: An Ancient Guide to Anger Management by Seneca

  How to Think about War: An Ancient Guide to Foreign Policy by Thucydides

  How to Be Free: An Ancient Guide to the Stoic Life by Epictetus

  How to Be a Friend: An Ancient Guide to True Friendship by Marcus Tullius Cicero

  How to Die: An Ancient Guide to the End of Life by Seneca

  How to Win an Argument: An Ancient Guide to the Art of Persuasion by Marcus Tullius Cicero

  How to Grow Old: Ancient Wisdom for the Second Half of Life by Marcus Tullius Cicero

  How to Run a Country: An Ancient Guide for Modern Leaders by Marcus Tullius Cicero

  How to Win an Election: An Ancient Guide for Modern Politicians by Quintus Tullius Cicero

  HOW TO THINK

  ABOUT GOD

  ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄ ▄

  An Ancient Guide for Believers

  and Nonbelievers

  Marcus Tullius Cicero

  Selected, translated, and introduced

  by Philip Freeman

  PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS

  PRINCETON AND OXFORD

  Copyright © 2019 by Philip Freeman

  Requests for permission to reproduce material from this work

  should be sent to Permissions, Princeton University Press

  Published by Princeton University Press

  41 William Street, Princeton, New Jersey 08540

  6 Oxford Street, Woodstock, Oxfordshire OX20 1TR

  press.princeton.edu

  All Rights Reserved

  ISBN 978-0-691-18365-7

  eISBN 978-0-691-19744-9 (ebook)

  Version 1.0

  British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available

  Editorial: Rob Tempio and Matt Rohal

  Production Editorial: Ali Parrington

  Text and Jacket Design: Pamela L. Schnitter

  Production: Merli Guerra

  Publicity: Jodi Price, Amy Stewart, and Alyssa Sanford

  Jacket/Cover Credit: Shutterstock

  CONTENTS

  Introduction vii

  On the Nature of the Gods (2.1–44) 3

  The Dream of Scipio 95

  Notes 141

  Further Reading 151

  INTRODUCTION

  Ancient Rome was a land full of gods.

  Every Roman family honored the ancestral Lares and guardian Penates who watched over their household, as well as Vesta, the goddess who cared for the sacred hearth fire at the center of every home. Beyond the doorway (secured by Janus, who faced both directions) were countless deities of field, stream, and forest. Unlike the Greek gods, these divine spirits rarely had statues or stories connected with them. They were instead forces of nature that animated every corner of the Roman world—and were ignored at one’s own peril. Aside from household and nature gods, there were also state cults devoted to divinities such as Jupiter the lord of the heavens, Mars the god of agriculture (as well as war), and Bona Dea—the good goddess—worshipped only by women.

  But as the Romans expanded across the Mediterranean, they met other gods and many new ideas. Foreign divinities were sometimes welcomed into the Roman pantheon, though often with great suspicion, especially those from the exotic East. Cybele, the Great Mother goddess of Asia Minor, came to Rome during the war against Hannibal. The Jews, despite their peculiar notion of a single God, were allowed to worship freely in the city as long as they paid their taxes and caused no trouble.

  From the beginning of Roman history there were undoubtedly atheists and skeptics, but it was the encounter with Greek philosophy that caused many educated Romans to question the religious traditions of their ancestors. Some were intrigued by Pythagoras and his teachings on reincarnation and a mathematical order to the universe. Others were drawn to Plato, a student of Socrates and founder of the Athenian Academy, who taught that there was an invisible world more real than our own and urged a rational quest for the good life. Many, like the Roman poet and philosopher Lucretius, found comfort in the doctrine of Epicurus, who believed the supreme good in life was happiness, with no evidence of divine interest in humanity in a universe made only of atoms. But the most popular brand of Greek philosophy among educated Romans was the Stoicism taught by Zeno and his followers, such as Chrysippus and Posidonius, who believed that virtue was the supreme good in a materialistic and yet divine universe.

  Marcus Tullius Cicero was among those Romans in the waning years of the Republic who searched for answers beyond the religion of his forefathers. He loved and honored the traditions of his homeland, but they failed to satisfy a deep longing to know about the role of gods in earthly life, how the universe was organized, and, perhaps most of all, whether the human spirit might survive death.

  Cicero had been born in a small Italian town outside of Rome, but by determination and an extraordinary mind had risen in 63 BC to the office of consul, the highest office in the Roman Republic. His skills as an orator were unmatched, as were his talents for compromise and moderation in an age of political extremes. But in spite of his best efforts to maintain the role of the Senate in governing the state, the Republic slipped into dictatorship under Julius Caesar, leaving Cicero on the margins if not outright exile more than once during his political career.

  It was during these absences from Rome that Cicero devoted himself to study and writing, producing some of the most important political and philosophical writings of the classical age. As he freely admitted, most of his ideas were Greek, but he was no mere copyist. His ability to adapt the teachings of the greatest Greek minds to a broader world influenced not only his own time but readers for centuries to come, from St. Augustine and Dante to Voltaire and Alexander Hamilton.

  In 45 BC, the year before Julius Caesar was assassinated, Cicero wrote a number of important philosophical and rhetorical works including On the Nature of the Gods (De natura deorum), in which several key figures from Roman history stage an imaginary debate on the proper way to think about the divine. In this long and fascinating book, Velleius the Epicurean argues against the idea of the gods having any interest in human affairs. Balbus the Stoic, in contrast, advocates a view of the universe as a living whole controlled by a divine yet still materialistic God who is the ultimate reality (modern readers may see something similar in the Force of the Star Wars saga). Cotta the Academic, representing the later skeptical teachings developed from Plato, casts both views into doubt. The heart of Balbus’s Stoic argument is presented in this volume.

  A few years earlier, in 51 BC, Cicero had imitated Plato in writing a book on the ideals of government. Called On the Republic (De re publica), most of the text was lost to modern readers until 1820, when a large part of the book was discovered in the Vatican. Only the conclusion of the book, known as the Dream of Scipio, was preserved and studied continuously from antiquity through the Middle Ages and beyond. In this extraordinary dream narrative, given here in its entirety, the Roman hero Scipio is taken on a tour of the heavens by his adoptive grandfather Scipio Africanus. In this nighttime visitation, the younger Scipio discovers the Stoic heavenly design of the universe and the place of a virtuous and eternal soul in it.

  Cicero was no religious dogmatist and was indeed a man full of doubts. His own beliefs, reflected in his many treatises and letters, changed repeatedly throughout his troubled life. At most times he seems to have believed hopefully in the God of the Stoics—though he never identified himself as a Stoic—and the possibility of eternal life for the virtu
ous. At other periods he appears to have doubted almost everything about religion, including the belief that there was any life beyond the grave. His writings translated in this short volume reflect the more hopeful periods of his life and his preference for the Stoic view of the divine. Unlike his justly celebrated works on friendship and growing older,1 I present his religious views here for a modern audience not so much for imitation in one’s own life as to gain an appreciation for a profound and influential view of the divine just before the dawn of the Christian age.2

  HOW TO THINK ABOUT GOD

  ON THE NATURE OF THE GODS

  (2.1–44)

  1. When Cotta had finished speaking, Velleius replied: “I was foolish to try to debate someone who is both an Academic and skilled at rhetoric.1 I wouldn’t have been afraid of an Academic who was a poor speaker nor of an excellent rhetorician who had a poor grasp of philosophy; for I have no fear of a stream of empty, eloquent words nor sharp arguments presented badly. However you, Cotta, are skilled at both! All you lacked was a circle of listeners and a jury. But I’ll respond to your criticisms some other time. Let us now hear Lucilius Balbus, if he is willing.”

  2. Then Balbus spoke: “I would prefer to hear Cotta further, if only he would portray the true gods as eloquently as he has exposed the false. A man like Cotta, who is both a philosopher and a priest, should have a vision of the immortal gods that isn’t ambiguous and vague like the Academics but instead sure and certain like what we Stoics hold. We’ve heard enough and more than enough to disprove the views of the Epicureans. What I’d really like to hear from you now, Cotta, are your own beliefs.”

  “Surely,” Cotta said, “you haven’t forgotten what I said at the beginning of our discussion, that it is much easier for me, especially in matters such as these, to talk about what I disbelieve rather than what I believe.

  3. “But even if I had something definite to say, I would much rather listen to you in your turn, especially since I’ve already spoken at length.”

  Then Balbus replied: “Very well, I will do as you ask as briefly as I can. Since the errors of the Epicureans have already been refuted at length, I can omit much of what I was planning to say.

  In general, we Stoics divide the whole question of the immortal gods into four parts: first, we teach that they exist; second, we discuss their nature; third, we show how they govern the universe; and finally, we describe how they care about human affairs. In this present discussion, I think we should focus on the first two points and leave aside the latter two for another time, since they are so vast.”

  “I disagree,” said Cotta. “For we have plenty of time and are concerned about questions so important that they should take precedence over any other business.”

  4. “Very well,” said Balbus. “It seems to me that the first point—that the gods exist—scarcely needs discussing. For what could be more clear and obvious when we gaze at the sky and contemplate the heavens, than that there is some divine power of surpassing intelligence which rules over this realm? If this weren’t true, how is it that everyone approves of the words of Ennius when he says

  Look up at the shining firmament

  which all call on as Jupiter

  and not only as the god Jupiter but as lord of the universe, a present and mighty god, who rules everything by his command? As Ennius calls him:

  the father of gods and men.2

  I can hardly imagine how anyone doubts this. If so, they might as well doubt the existence of the Sun!

  5. “For how is the Sun’s existence more obvious than that of God? If this idea of the divine was not so clearly known and planted in our minds, would it have endured and become stronger as the centuries passed? How could it have become more steadfast with every succeeding age and generation of humanity? We see that other vain and false beliefs have passed away with time. Who now believes that hippocentaurs or the Chimaera ever existed?3 Is there any ignorant old woman left who still believes in the monsters of the underworld which people once feared? Time erases false beliefs, but confirms the judgments of nature. The result is that among our own people as with others, the worship of the gods and the observance of sacred rites grows stronger and more perfect as time passes.

  6. “This doesn’t happen randomly nor by chance, but because the gods themselves often make their power known to us. For example, in our war with the Latin League at Lake Regillus, when the dictator Aulus Postumius was battling Octavius Mamilius of Tusculum, Castor and Pollux appeared on horseback on the front lines with our soldiers.4 More recently these divine sons of Tyndareus appeared to announce the defeat of Perses. Publius Vatinius, the grandfather of our young contemporary, was traveling to Rome by night from his magistracy at Reate when two young men dressed in white told him that Perses had been captured that very day.5 When Vatinius announced this to the Senate, he was thrown into jail for making reckless claims about state business. But afterward a letter arrived from Aemilius Paulus confirming victory on that very day, so that the Senate gave Vatinius a grant of public land and special privileges. As another example, when the Locrians soundly defeated the army of the Crotons at the Sagra River, the outcome of the battle, it is said, was heard at the games in Olympia on that same day.6 Oftentimes voices of fauns have been heard and apparitions of the gods have been seen so that anyone who is not a fool or impious would have to admit that the gods were present.

  7. “Then there is the evidence of prophecies and premonitions of things to come. These are proof that the future is being revealed, shown, portended, and foretold to humanity, thus they are called revelations, signs, portents, and predictions. Even if we believe the ancient stories of Mopsus, Teiresias, Amphiaraus, Calchas, and Helenus are mere fictions and fables—although their powers would not have been recognized in fiction unless they had some foundation in fact—will we as learned men dismiss evidence of divine powers if it is from our own recent history?7 Won’t we learn from the outrageous behavior of Publius Claudius in the First Punic War? He mocked the gods as a joke, for when the chickens were released from their cages and refused to eat, he ordered them thrown into the sea, saying they could drink instead. But that jest led to a great defeat for the fleet of Claudius and a disaster for the Roman people. And didn’t his colleague Lucius Junius in the same war lose his ships in a storm because he neglected the auspices?8 In the end Claudius was condemned by the Roman people and Junius committed suicide.

  8. “Coelius records that Gaius Flaminius perished at Trasimene because he neglected religious observances, resulting in grave danger to the Roman Republic.9 The fate of these men helps us understand that the good of our country was increased when these generals followed religious practices.

  Now, if we compare ourselves to other nations, we will find ourselves equal or even inferior in some respects—but not in religion, that is, the worship of the gods, in which we are far superior.

  9. “Or should we laugh at the augural staff of Attus Navius, who used it to trace out the sections of his vineyard to find his lost pig?10 I would believe laughter justified except that King Tullus Hostilius called on his services as an augur before he waged great wars. But nowadays our leaders have abandoned the art of augury and no longer believe in the truth auspices teach, continuing only the empty forms. And so the greatest affairs of state, including the wars that ensure our safety, are conducted without taking the auspices. We no longer call on the gods when crossing rivers nor when our spears flash nor when men are called up for service. Soldiers no longer write their wills before going into battle and generals wage war without first conducting the auspices.

  10. “Truly the power of religious feelings was so strong in the past that some of our generals even devoted themselves to the immortal gods, with heads veiled and formal prayers recited, for the good of our country.11 I could recount many examples of Sibylline prophecies or words from soothsayers, the fulfillment of which no one ought to doubt. But instead let me remind you of the truth of augury and the divine power of Etruscan sooths
ayers by recalling the events that occurred in the consulship of Publius Scipio and Gaius Figulus.12

  Tiberius Gracchus was presiding over their election during his second consulship when suddenly the senior voting official dropped dead just as he was announcing their names. Gracchus nonetheless went through with the election. Later he realized that the unusual proceedings had troubled the religious sensibilities of the common people, so he referred the matter to the Senate. The Senate then referred it to the usual religious officers for consideration. These Etruscan soothsayers responded that the incorrect appointment of the official who had died made the elections invalid.

  11. “My own father told me that Gracchus was furious at this ruling and shouted: ‘What? How could I have been out of order when I myself, being both consul and augur, had taken the proper auspices? Are you barbaric Etruscans really going to be the arbiters of what is right concerning the auspices of the Roman people and what is valid in how we conduct our elections?’ Then he threw them out of the Senate chambers. But afterward he sent a letter to the College of Augurs from his province stating that, after consulting the augural books, he realized he had been mistaken in choosing the Gardens of Scipio as the site of his tent for taking the auspices before the election. For he had subsequently crossed the boundary of Rome to hold a meeting of the Senate, then had omitted taking the auspices at the city limit on his return journey. Thus, he said, the election of the consuls had been invalid. The augurs then sent word to the Senate, which informed the elected consuls, who immediately resigned.

  Do we need a better example than this? Here we have one of our wisest leaders, perhaps the most eminent man of all, confessing he had made a mistake—which, by the way, he could have easily concealed. But he preferred to admit his behavior was wrong rather than allow a religious error to harm the Republic. And the elected consuls preferred to lay down the highest power granted by the state rather than risk offending the gods.