Глава V. Зрелища

If you believe the testimony of St. Chrysostom, who belongs to the era when he probably judged his youth with extreme severity, no matter how little it was confused by passions, then in the first years of his activity, when he first appeared in court, he allowed himself to be carried away by stage pleasures. It is hard to believe, however, that he could ever be so ardently carried away by them that they could threaten his soul with danger. Nothing gives the right to think that John was ever like Bl. Augustine. It is impossible to imagine that he completely surrendered himself to theatrical illusion, just as it is impossible to imagine that, while reading Homer at the Livaniya school, he shared the feelings expressed by the poet, united in some way with his heroes and experienced their lives and passions, as did the same bl. Augustine, while reading the fourth book of the Aeneid. No involuntary regret slipped through his mind later in that separate phrase of the treatise “On the Priesthood”, where he tells us that he, like everyone else, was sometimes seen at a spectacle. This regret is not visible in those few places where he makes a mention, however without a precise designation, of the “poet of the Hellenes,” that is, of Homer, whom he does not even deign to name, or to talk about “the denouement of ancient tragedies” - obviously, he does not even want to utter the name of Euripides. The sacrifice was made so completely that it probably did not require much effort on his part. On the contrary, whoever read the fiery pages of Bl. Augustine, not feeling carried away by an irresistible passion, just as he himself was carried away by the beautiful poems of Virgil? Everyone during this reading, partly contrary to the intentions of the author of the Confession, received not a calm and clear impression, but experienced excitement, so deeply felt at first by the blessed one himself. Augustine, that the slightest touch opened the wound. Often, on the part of those who found the severity of the patristic condemnations of spectacles somewhat excessive, the remark was made that this severity could be explained by the decadence and immorality into which the theater had fallen in the last centuries of the empire. This decadence and immorality are undeniable, and in this sense the remark is not without justice, but one should not conclude from this that St. the fathers would have justified our seventeenth-century theater, or classical Greek theater, in the era of its true greatness. They generally disapprove of any representation of human passions, and in the famous debate Bossuet is right, at least historically. We just said that St. Chrysostom speaks completely exclusively and only in hints about the great tragedians and is not at all in the spirit of condescension. One can think what harsh expressions he would have used when speaking about Aristophanes. But it must be admitted that the temptations of modern dramatic art especially made the denunciations of St. fathers, and in particular regarding St. Chrysostom, distinguished by such a practical mind, is known that he does not waste time on a theoretical discussion of the advantages and disadvantages of theater in general, although he allows his very unfavorable opinion to be clearly seen. He has in mind the theater of his time, and he persecutes him with his cruelest denunciations. Here, like all St. fathers, he adds the circus and all other public games, which he condemns in principle, and regardless of what they may be. Public games in Antioch, as in Rome, were given at the expense of the main members of the Senate when they held major positions. The games were called "liturgies", borrowed from the ancient political system of Athens. They are often discussed in the works of Livanius, whose uncles, in turn, paid this very significant debt towards their fellow citizens. The entertainment offered to the people was expensive and varied, since the Syrians had long been accustomed to great demands. Their country not only fed many actors, jesters, musicians and horsemen, but also supplied them abroad for a long time. In Rome, the popularity of flute players (ambubajae) was established a long time ago, and, without going back too far, the dancers and musicians brought from Antioch by Lucius Verus enjoyed extraordinary fame. The spectacles offered to the inhabitants of Antioch by their city leaders were of various kinds. And above all, it was a theater in the proper sense, where neither ancient tragedy nor the comedy of classical times occupied any place. All the success fell to the share of mime and pantomime, and, judging by Chrysostom’s descriptions, sometimes quite accurate, the position in which the Greek theater of his era was located was almost identical to the position of the Latin theater - as it is known to us during the empire, in the era of Juvenal or Martial. The ties usually had adultery as their subject, as in that traditional mime described by Juvenal, where the lover, represented by the famous actor Latinus, was forced to hide in a chest. One also encounters here the personality of a fool (Stupidus), showered with ridicule and pursued with cuffs and slaps, and these latter were one of the aids of the mime even in the time of Cicero. Very often, St. Chrysostom speaks of the importance that music had in these spectacles, and mentions songs full of indecent allusions to mythological love fables. And this was no longer just a mime, this was the pantomime that Pylades was proud of creating under Augustus. The roles of women were in most cases performed by actresses, and St. Chrysostom was not afraid to describe with rather bold realism their very free outfit, rouged face and impudent hairstyle 40. Sometimes, and this seemed even more seductive to him, these roles were taken on by men so pampered that they could perform their roles with complete verisimilitude. Thus, a very crude comedy - mime and a very immodest ballet - pantomime - these were the only types of dramatic art then. In addition, in the theater, as at feasts, they looked at the crowd of jesters, acrobats, charlatans and rope dancers, and the enormous success of all of them shows how little discriminating and exalted public taste was. The circus enjoyed no less fame, and racing was one of the attractions, especially famous in Antioch and generally throughout Syria. Laodicea, Beritus, Tire and Caesarea in Palestine were indeed very famous for these races, and the most famous riders came from Laodicea, just as the best actors came from Tire and Beritus, and the best dancers from Caesarea. Not content with what their own country gave them, the Antiochian nobles obtained exquisite harnesses from even the most distant countries; Thus, chariots for four horses were exported from Spain. In addition to some very absurd spectacles, which nevertheless enjoyed fame throughout the empire, such as the spectacle of swimmers, two more significant entertainments should be noted. On the one hand, the ancient Hellenic instincts always demanded satisfaction, and the custom of wrestling gymnasts did not go out of use. These were the Olympic Games that gave, for example, to Uncle Livaniya. On the other hand, despite the resistance that Greek humanity offered against these cruelties, neither the fighting of wild animals, nor even the fight of gladiators, was finally abolished. Battles were usually fought at the end of the “liturgy,” and seventeen Syrian cities were called here. The same spectacles that were given in Syria were also in Constantinople. We find it necessary to add only one curious detail, which, however, is not reported by St. Chrysostom, but his biographer and apologist - Bishop Palladius. The theaters here did not remain indifferent to contemporary theological debates and “responded to the seductive stories of Severian of Haval and Antiochus of Ascalon.” It is not entirely clear, however, whether the audience themselves tried to find hints of these facts, or whether they were actually discussed in the proposed plays. The Syrians treated all these various spectacles with extreme passion, but the inhabitants of Constantinople were not left behind the Syrians. However, the same thing happened then throughout the empire, equally in the West and in the East, and the scenes that St. describes to us. Chrysostom, in the same way, and even almost in the same expressions, is described by the Latin holy fathers. In Antioch, on the day of the performance, not only the circus benches were filled, but curious people even climbed onto the roofs of neighboring houses. And the whole city, one might say, was curious: rich and poor, weak and sick as well as healthy. The old people were no less fanatical than the young people. Whatever the weather, people flocked here with equal readiness and with equal patience to endure these performances, which lasted not an hour or two, but most of the day. Winter or autumn rain and wind were no more terrible than the unbearable summer heat, and the listeners would rather stay here, exposed to all the weather, than seek refuge under the beautiful sheathed roof of the “Golden Church, equally cool in summer and warm in winter,” as the voice of St. Chrysostom. And thus they not only lost the very day of the games, but even the day before, in the whole city they were not talking about anything else, and had no other thought in their heads. Friends, members of the same pariah, supporters of the same faction united in the evening and then in the morning, from early on, in close-knit groups went to the spectacle. The names of horses and riders, when it came to racing, as well as the names of actors and actresses, dancers and dancers, when it came to mime or pantomime, were known to everyone and on everyone’s tongue. In exactly the same way as now, they knew the genealogy of horses with extreme accuracy and, based on this data, weighed their relative chances of winning. They knew no less well the origin, life and behavior of the famous actresses, and while they were playing on stage, neighbors whispered to each other scandalous stories in which they were involved. The athletes who were to compete in the Olympic Games were very popular, and public opinion valued them higher than the actors, who were always looked upon as dishonest people. At the same time, well-known ceremonies were observed, similar to the ceremonies of the ancient sacred panegyria of classical Greece. Before the gymnasts fought, the herald announced the names of the competitors and asked the people if he had anything to say against any of them. The supporters of each opponent showed the greatest vigilance over him during the night preceding the fight, prevented him from allowing any extreme, and with this intention they spent all the intervening time around him. These Olympic Games were celebrated every four years in the suburbs of Daphne, and Palladius has preserved for us an anecdote showing how many people they attracted. During the exile of St. John, the old bishop Flavian died, and the opponents of St. Chrysostom, since their party had spread from Constantinople to all the big cities of the East, they wanted to persuade the people to elect in his place a certain Porphyry, who enjoyed a very bad reputation. But the majority of the people did not seem to be in their favor. Then they decided to act on luck, to suddenly ordain their candidate and for this they chose the day of the Olympic Games, because the city was almost completely empty. The extreme fame enjoyed by the entire staff of circuses and theaters is the best proof of the extraordinary significance that games and shows had in the life of that time. And this popularity inevitably entailed abuses, which are an almost inevitable consequence of the exaggerated favor shown by the public to those who entertained them. These favorites of the crowd exploited its benevolent patience: they had great impudence, lived the freest lives according to their own tastes, and thus indirectly fully compensated themselves for the deprivation of rights with which the law persistently struck them. The actresses and dancers were all supported by the main persons of the city; From their midst came the most famous harlots, and for St. Chrysostom - actress and harlot are synonymous. They stretched their hopes very high, and if none of them had yet managed to rise to the royal throne, then many achieved that they penetrated into noble families through marriages, which civil law tried to prevent several times and which St. Chrysostom branded him with extreme contempt. The morals of the actors were no better, and again from among them were recruited many of those young men, those ναμαχοι, who enjoyed no less love than women, and were the greatest disgrace of ancient society. Dancers and dancers, comedians and comediennes, admitted to the table of the rich, were present at the feasts and here, like all parasites, they showed extreme shamelessness. The home environment of the most inglorious actors was magnificent, they behaved like nobles, and one could often see them crossing the square on horseback, preceded by an attendant. The riders were just as vain, and were allowed the same extreme shamelessness. If misfortune happened to any of them, sadness was universal. Thus, everyone regretted the fate of one charioteer, crushed by chariots in Constantinople, during the first time of the bishopric of St. John, when, in the year 399, he delivered a wonderful conversation, which we will soon talk about in great detail. The victim of this accident was to be married the next day; thus, here was everything needed to touch the most tender strings of Byzantine sensibility. Bl. Jerome says that in Gaza the passion for horse racing was mixed with religious passions. The horses of a rich pagan competed with the horses of the same Christian, and the victory of the latter’s horses, which was looked upon as the triumph of Christ over Marne, entailed a large number of conversions. Near this staff of actors and riders, whose morals were so unbridled, a crowd of unfortunate, even more depraved people was grouped. These were their parasites, just as they themselves were parasites of the rich, admirers of their wealth, heralds of their empty popularity. Both in the circus and in the theater they constituted a real and very well-organized class of flappers, always ready for riots, and these latter, as we know, often gave way to passionate division into factions. Unable to lose anything, these unscrupulous scoundrels, in most cases coming from unknown places and alien to the city, in Antioch, the most restless of cities, were particularly violent and stood in the forefront of all disturbances. According to St. Chrysostom, they were the real culprits of the uprising of 387. They stood at the head of the crowd that first rushed into the church to demand the intervention of Bishop Flavian, then overthrew the statues of the imperial family, set fire to the house of one senator, but easily dispersed at the first attempt to curb it. What makes it very plausible to believe that they really took a very large part in these disturbances is that Livanius, in his speech against Timocrates, speaks about them in exactly the same way as St. Chrysostom “These people,” he says, “are all strangers, without exception, who were expelled from their fatherland as a result of their bad behavior, and did not want to engage in the craft for which their parents intended them. They cannot and do not want to live otherwise than in laziness. Some have given their souls and bodies to mimics, the majority to dancers, and their whole life consists of serving and flattering them. And these, for their part, give them some handouts, more or less large, depending on the strength of their applause.” The number of their Lebanons is almost four hundred. St. also speaks about this in similar expressions. Chrysostom in one later conversation - on ev. Matthew. We must, however, not forget that Livanius and St. Chrysostom had an interest in justifying the Antiochian citizens and reducing their responsibility in those terrible days. As for Rome, Ammianus described this same crowd of ragged idlers, spending their days in laziness and sleeping at night under the covers of theaters. In the general campaign opened in the 4th century by Christianity against spectacles, it is impossible to find a bishop who would undertake a more decisive struggle than St. Chrysostom, and who would have withstood it with more energy. In the first year of his preaching in Antioch, he pronounced his first curses against spectacles. During his bishopric in Constantinople, in a great capital perhaps even more corrupt than the Syrian metropolis, he repeated them incessantly and also without achieving more noticeable success. And he, who did not like to use violent measures, who wanted to rather transform everything with love and correct it with mercy, speaking against spectacles, quite often allows himself to resort to threats and make his power felt. While still a simple priest, he already announced that he would not think about resorting to the laws of church discipline. “I would like,” he said, “to know the names of those who leave the church for the theater; I would put them under temporary excommunication.” We see that in the rank of bishop he actually once utters the words of solemn excommunication and fulfills the often made, but long delayed, threat. The attempt to suppress that powerful instinct which, in all civilizations and among all peoples, has given rise to public spectacles, and particularly to dramatic performances, has been a difficult undertaking, an undertaking in which very few religious reformers have succeeded. Residents of Antioch and Constantinople dared to challenge the condemnation of St. Chrysostom and argue with him. In this case, they did not accept the reproach with bowed heads, with eyes moistened with tears, striking their chests, as they often did when he took into account their stinginess or voluptuousness, however, they were quite ready, upon leaving the church, to forget their momentary emotional movement and still charge high interest or feast with beautiful harlots: here they were more courageous and more fond of reasoning. Strictly speaking, in most cases they did not indulge in indignation, but rather laughed at it, and this was what worried St. the most. Chrysostom, who was fully aware that it is more difficult to fight irony than passion. “But what’s the harm in watching horses run? Can you believe that people will be condemned for the spectacles? Without a doubt, theatrical performances are more dubious: at least in every mime, as in every pantomime, adultery or some kind of illicit love appears. But this is nothing more than a fiction, and it is well known and proven that no fiction can harm a soul that rules over itself. It is also true that the actresses’ attire is not very decent - if they are not completely naked, then almost naked, and to force these pitiful women to break with all modesty means to have little regard for human nature. Yes, there is something deplorable here, but in the end these actresses are nothing more than harlots. What do we care about harlots and slaves? Finally, it must be said that these spectacles are legal; they are paid for by the expenses of the state, or at least by the expenses of people temporarily deprived of public positions; the buildings in which we are present are public buildings; the members of the magistrate preside here and give the sign for the opening; the emperor and the entire court are present in the first row of spectators. So, they are legitimized by the state, and the state fully knows what it is doing, especially now that it has become Christian, and not only Christian, but, since the time of Theodosius, Orthodox in the strictest sense of the word. To these ironic objections, raised with more or less sincerity, St. Chrysostom responds with arguments, some of which, we repeat, are applicable to all times and to all types of spectacles, but the majority, however, and the strongest ones, were inspired in him by the immorality of the modern theater. He did not recognize any rights to fiction and did not make the slightest concession to the imagination. He finds it dangerous that reality is abandoned for the sake of dreams, and is hostile to the very principle of art and poetry. However, St. John only rarely discusses this general position and rather allows his opinion to be guessed than to clearly develop it. If he so ardently condemns fiction, it is especially because the fiction beloved in his time is indecent and shameful. It cannot be denied that he described with deep fidelity to analysis some of the almost inevitable consequences of frequent visits to the theater. He sees two main consequences here: boredom and debauchery. “You just lived for a few hours in an ideal world, more beautiful than nature, and then you come back to reality. How do you want reality not to offend you and not seem unbearable to you? You return home and suffer from incomprehensible melancholy, melancholy for no apparent reason 41 . Your overly simple home irritates you, because in your mind you still imagine the splendor of the scene. You don’t like your wife because she is less beautiful and worse decorated than the actress or dancer whom you just applauded. It is on her, who did not accompany you to the theater, and on your slaves that you take out your bad mood.” It is wonderful that St. Chrysostom assumes that his listeners will be more interested in the appearance of the actors and the splendor of the scenery than in the intrigue and the very content of the mime or pantomime; this is explained by the deep decline of dramatic art in that era. From this it also follows that the first of the two unfortunate consequences noted by St. Chrysostom is closely connected with the second: melancholy and voluptuousness stand side by side. “You take obscene images out of the theater, and the image of an almost naked actress remains deeply imprinted on your mind. In yourself you carry a harlot, not visible and really existing, but imaginary, although it would be better if the harlot were really next to you: then the danger would be less, because your wife would soon drive her out the door. And this powerful and indestructible image hiding in your imagination cannot be destroyed by either your wife or yourself, and that is why now you don’t like everything in the house, you no longer find any charm in your home, in your own children, that is why you have become a victim of excitement for no apparent reason, a victim of the internal fever of excited feelings.” He then seeks some vigorous criticism of this theater, the source of so many evils, and compares it with the feast of Herodias. “The theater is always a feast for Herodias. If John is not killed there, then the members of Christ suffer there from unworthy insults. And you endure such dishonor: you make the members of Christ the members of a harlot. For, although Herodias is no longer there, the demon who danced in her then is still present. It is he who leads these choirs of dancers and, along with himself, takes captives the souls of those present.” This imagery and liveliness must have pleased the inhabitants of Antioch, and they, no doubt, did not miss the opportunity to noisily applaud the preacher. But even now they were no more convinced and continued to laugh, saying that it was all nonsense. Has anyone ever become an adulterer in the theater? - they repeated, perhaps half sincerely, succumbing to one of those illusions that include a share of self-satisfaction. But they were dealing with a strong enemy, stronger than themselves, and St. Chrysostom was not content with excuses and more or less vague objections. They thought of cramping him in his last refuge and challenged him to name names. He, indeed, was careful not to name them, because he avoided temptation, because in Antioch in particular he was extremely prudent and careful. He was well aware of what he wanted, moderated his courage and, if sometimes he decided on it, it was with the goal of achieving a useful result. This is how he differs from classical satirists, with whom he sometimes has similarities in the sharp expressiveness of his paintings. But, if he did not call anyone by name, then at least he expressed regret that he could not do this. “Oh, if I could name names!” - said St. John, and no doubt, when he uttered such words, more than one listener blushed and lowered his head. But even now there were still those who did not seem convinced, and St. Chrysostom read resistance on their lips and in their eyes. Then he reached the last limit of possible concessions. “So be it, I admit that you yourself leave the theater without experiencing any lust, I admit that you have sufficient power over yourself not to be afraid of anything. But can you be responsible for your neighbor? And if you cannot answer, then is it not your fault that you approved of a cause that ruined the table of many souls?” However, he made this concession only once and more for the sake of form than seriously. He knew too well the weakness of the flesh, and thus clearly and bluntly expressed that his objectors were dishonest, for, like everyone else, they felt the sting of desire. One day, surprisingly bold words burst out from him on this matter, and we gladly cite them as very clearly characterizing his eloquence, free from any hindrance, alien to any false legibility and full of irresistible power of denunciation. He begins by describing in great detail, with great wit and brightness, the shameless outfit of the actresses, all their tricks and tricks characteristic of harlots. He went so far in the accuracy of his description that his listeners were perplexed and surprised for several minutes: it was no longer the priest who spoke to them; it seemed that it was Juvenal, the author of the sixth satire, or better to say - (since we are talking about Syria) - Lucian, the author of the "dialogues of harlots." But before them was St. Chrysostom, who was not carried away by the ease of words and his oriental imagination. He considered his intention and weighed his courage. It can be seen how carefully he observed the slightest impressions of the people, who, however, did not try to hide. And so he takes advantage of the moment when his listeners are excited by the vividness of his colors, confused and seized with a carnal chill. Then he impulsively stops and exclaims: “Didn’t you experience anything at the time when I told you so? Oh, don’t blush and don’t be ashamed, because natural necessity requires it. But if here, in church, listening to me, the priest, you could not control yourself, then what can we say about the theater? Do you still dare to claim that you are present there, cold as a stone? Never were more sacredly bold words spoken in a Christian basilica. This is one of the passages from which one can learn the eloquence of St. John is indebted to the eloquence of the prophets. It was in their school that he learned that irrevocable freedom of speech, freedom - intention completely purified and ennobled by sublimity. There is nothing to be found in all the Gospels that could inspire him either to this beautiful passage or to some other passages of a similar kind; - this is the breath of the stern Jewish genius. And this time it is not even the speech of Isaiah, but the rebuke of Ezekiel. The victory was bought, perhaps at a somewhat high price, but it was decisive, and the hypocrites were caught at the scene of the crime. To use Bossuet's strong expression, the "neighing of the flesh" exposed their objections as lies. Objectors to St. Chrysostom considered themselves even more confident when they defended the circus and the Olympic Games. No matter what they said, in their eyes it was only a rather innocent entertainment. However, St. John was just as harsh here, especially in relation to the circus, because he said only very little about the Olympic Games, and even those details that we previously borrowed from him regarding this subject are given to us only indirectly and in comparisons. (The struggle of wild beasts, which we have already mentioned, is discussed almost in the twelfth conversation on the first letter to the Corinthians). What were the grounds that dictated his sentence this time? Undoubtedly, there were many of them. First of all, he followed a tradition that had long been established in the Church, dating back to the time when the Church indifferently condemned all spectacles as being in close connection with pagan holidays and, therefore, tainted by idolatry. Then, he took into account the incessant unrest caused by horse racing: the division of the masses into factions, which, although in the 4th century was not such a grave evil as it later became, however, even now did not seem safe. Finally, he saw very clearly that in all these meetings, both in the circus and in the theater, many temptations were presented in his time, just as in the time of Ovid. No, they told him, there was nothing bad in the spectacle of horses running, and it would be completely groundless to make a crime out of it. So be it, he answered, but the circus is full of public women and young libertines, and therefore is a place of the same inevitable corruption as the theater. In fact, circuses inevitably served as meeting places for all those who had no other business than pleasure, and we know from other sources that in ancient cities the neighborhoods adjacent to the circus enjoyed a very bad reputation. In Rome, near the Circus Maximus, a whole people was swarming, distinguished by more than dubious morality, and it is all the more likely that the same thing happened in Antioch, because in Rome itself, in this underground world (which we were just talking about and about which Juvenal and Martial often talk to us, there were many Syrian flute players - ambubajae. The last reason that made Chrysostom equally inexorable to both the circus and the theater is that the spectacles, whatever they were, so to speak, entered into competition with the church, took away its visitors from the latter, and most often were the reason for those absences from the meeting that for St. John were the subject of great concern. For a long time, bishops thought to cure this evil, even deciding to resort to the intervention of civil power. They wanted, at least, to defend Sunday, and the law of the year 386 is expressed on this subject in this way: let no one sin in the law of hire, which we once established - on the day of the sun, let no one offer a spectacle to the people and do not upset divine worship by arranging a festival 42. It is clear that this was not the first time that this law touched upon the subject, and perhaps its initiative came already from Constantine the Great. But, like many other regulations in the 4th century, this decree was implemented rather weakly, and the fatal coincidence continued to call for games and church meetings at the same time. And this happened not only on Sundays, but even on the most important annual holidays, for example, during Pentecost and Easter 43. From the very beginning of his sermon, St. Chrysostom was convinced of this by bitter experience. He had just begun his conversations against the Anomeans, and they had great success, when suddenly, on the day of the pronouncement of the seventh homily, he noticed that the assembly had amazingly decreased. “It happened because the races were back at the racetrack!” Later, while still in Antioch, he begins to explain the book of Genesis during Lent and, as always, the masses flock to the first meetings. Each time he rejoices at this, not without some surprise seeing that this wonderful jealousy increases. In particular, in the fifth homily he rejoices more lively than usual in the improvement of his listeners. But already the sixth was preparing inevitable disappointment for him: this time horse racing was scheduled again, and again the Antiochians left the church for the sake of the hippodrome. St. Chrysostom could grieve then the more intensely, the more hopes the listeners had given him before, and he spoke out against those who were absent with such strong reproaches that the next day, in the seventh homily, he considered it his duty to “bind up the wounds inflicted on him” and began the conversation with a sad, but gentle and merciful introduction. Similar examples are countless, but we will use only one as the most expressive. We borrow a story from that conversation of St. John, which provides the most characteristic evidence of the glory acquired by the theater at that time, and of the zeal with which St. Chrysostom tried to fight the latter. This is a homily pronounced at Constantinople, in the year 399, under the following circumstances. It's been a whole year since St. Chrysostom occupied the throne of Constantinople (from February 26, 398) and continued his Antioch sermon here with ardor, redoubled by the consciousness of his increased power and responsibility. Suddenly a terrible rain falls, almost completely destroying the harvest. In order to prevent misfortune, the residents of Constantinople perform religious processions in honor of St. Andrew and St. Paul, offer solemn prayers in the Church of St. apostles and even go on pilgrimage to the Church of Saints Peter and Paul. It was on Wednesday; on Thursday the storm subsided: the prayers of the bishop and the faithful were heard. But on Friday there were horse races, and everyone rushed to them. On Saturday there was a line outside the theater, and again all the citizens of Constantinople shamelessly hurried to the spectacle. One might think that St. must have suffered. Chrysostom for these two days! Forced to restrain his indignation for forty-eight hours, which seemed like centuries to him, on Sunday he ascends to the pulpit and bursts into speech 44 . “Can this be tolerated, can it be demolished? After my preaching and teaching for such a long time, some, leaving us, ran to look at the lists of horses and reached such a frenzy that the whole city was filled with their disorderly screams and exclamations, arousing great laughter, or better yet, crying. Sitting at home and hearing the screams, I suffered much more than being overwhelmed by the waves.” Then he explains to his listeners how insignificant the spectacle of running is, shows them the inevitable temptations of the theater, and his speech becomes almost as strong and bold as in the eighteenth homily on the Gospel of St. John. Under this influx of irresistible eloquence (let us note that this speech is undoubtedly one of the finest and most passionate speeches he ever delivered), the moved assembly humbled itself. But St. John did not take pity on his listeners, and their contrition did not console him. “Now, during my conversation, I see among you those who beat the heart and thank you for the fact (he says, not without some irony) that it is not so difficult to move you. But, unfortunately, I think that many of those who do this are innocent, and that they are good souls mourning the errors of their brothers.” And then he encourages such flock to use their influence on their friends in order to lead them to repentance. He ends his speech, returning to the ruthless tone of the beginning, threatens with excommunication anyone who again rejects a church meeting for the sake of the theater, even pronounces the very formula: “let these people be expelled from here!” and, taking advantage of the impression made by these words, continues: “If you trembled when you heard this threat (and I saw that you trembled and were filled with contrition), then let the guilty repent, and the threat will be taken back. If not, stop knowing the culprits. Do not associate with him” (2 Thess. 3:14). “Do not speak to them, do not receive them at your table, avoid them in the square, and then we will bring them back again.” But didn’t St. try? Chrysostom offered some satisfaction to the instinct with which he struggled, in replacement of the required sacrifices. Being such a deep moralist, didn’t he understand that instincts are ineradicable, and that the most prudent thing is to control them in one sense or another? Most St. Fathers, against their will, realized from an early age that the imagination has its own needs. This is what prompted the Church to create and little by little develop all its liturgical splendor, so brilliant in the 4th century and now almost reaching its final form. This pious ploy, however, never gave complete satisfaction. Introducing theater into the church is, of course, a good means of attracting the faithful, but there will always be troubled minds who insist on the recognition of theater outside the church. When Tertullian wrote his treatise On Spectacles, he was more preoccupied with this difficult question than usually seems. Only, not quite knowing where to find a solution, he got out of his difficulty through the techniques characteristic of his rhetoric, through metaphors that did not contain anything completely serious. Thus, to those faithful who loved to delight their eyes with the beauty and splendor of the stage setting, he said that they should only wait for the final judgment, when they would see the most beautiful spectacle. And with purely African fervor, he offers in advance a terrible description of this trial, as if inviting listeners, through such reflections, to prepare in advance for themselves a place in the spectacle. In the same way, he tells his listeners that if they like the fight of gladiators, then let them watch only themselves and contemplate the terrifying struggle of passions. But it is curious that this advice, which at first glance seemed not much more serious than the first, led to a completely practical result. Indeed, it is very probable that from this chapter of the treatise "On Spectacles" the poet Prudentius took the original idea of ​​his "Psychomachy", a poem of very mediocre design (though written with talent), but of great historical significance, because in the Middle Ages it gave rise to an endless series of allegorical poems and had a lot of influence on the art of the same era. It is even plausible that already in this chapter of Tertullian not everything refers to pure rhetoric, and that, at the time of writing it, Tertullian desired and more or less clearly foresaw the birth of allegorical Christian poetry of the kind that Prudentius created; one can almost say that he gave the first example of it in prose. It is interesting to note that St. Chrysostom, a contemporary of Prudentius, gives almost the same advice as Tertullian. He also wants the spectacle of the circus to be replaced by the internal spectacle of spiritual warfare. “If you want to see the race,” he says to the residents of Constantinople in the conversation we have just briefly outlined, “then why don’t you bring the passions under the yoke of wisdom and guide their reason?” If he knew the poem of Prudentius and if he spoke to the Spaniards or Italians in any church of the Latin dialect, he could advise them to read this poem. Thus a new kind of spectacle was born, which could be called a spectacle not in a chair, but in a cell, and the best example of which, without a doubt, is the temptation of St. Anthony. But most often St. Chrysostom gives more practical and serious advice, although it does not quite achieve the goal. Thus, he sometimes liked to refer to the example of the barbarians, which Salvian was later to very decisively use, but which was still rarely used by the saints. fathers of the 4th century. Barbarians have no social games. “What excuse will remain for us if, being Christians, that is, citizens of heaven and fellow members of angels and cherubim, we nevertheless behave worse than pagans and infidels?” He then cites the words that, as they say, one barbarian commander said, although, according to St. Chrysostom, they are worthy of the greatest philosophers. - Hearing a speech about the theater, the Goth exclaimed: “apparently the Romans have neither wives nor children, and, as a result, they are forced to look for entertainment outside the home.” In turn, St. comes out from here. John, recommending the peaceful joys of the hearth. “Truly, what could be nicer than children? What could be sweeter than a chaste wife for a chaste husband? In addition, he advised adding here the pleasures of friendship, which he often praised in touching terms. He also wanted people to understand and enjoy the beauties of nature, although he himself does not speak about them very often and does not describe them with the reasonable sympathy of St. Basil the Great 45. “If you want to give your mind rest, go to a garden, walk along the banks of a river or lake, go to a place with a beautiful view, listen to the singing of birds, or, if you want to have fun even more sacredly, visit the tombs of St. martyrs." The Holy Fathers of the 4th century, like their predecessors, like Tertullian, apparently had in mind not the reform of the theater, but its destruction, and hoped that one day the spectacles would disappear. In this they were wrong: the spectacles always survived their severe attacks, and the tradition was never truly broken. In their crudest form they survived the darkest era of German attacks, and soon in medieval society, Christian to the core, when the Church realized its ideal much more fully than in the 4th century, little by little a real theater was revived, undoubtedly less perfect in form than the ancient theater, but more tenacious and original. And one should not think that St. Chrysostom achieved great results in the energetic battle that he, without losing courage, waged with the spectacles of his time. Antioch was that legendary city whose inhabitants, according to legend, noticed the attack of the Parthians from the steps of the theater itself, and it never ceased to be Antioch. In Constantinople, in a similar way, circus parties developed more and more, and as before, the people applauded the shameless actresses. But if St. Chrysostom did not achieve, and could not achieve, deep and general reform, yet it is certain that he had to win private victories, and for him this was undoubtedly enough. He did a lot, but without the extreme illusion of optimism, knowing that there would always be disobedient sheep in the flock. If he managed to lead only a few to the proper path, he was already completely satisfied, and his heart experienced the sweetest joy, which is what he desired. St. Chrysostom even says that sometimes he went out completely naked, but he immediately corrects himself and says: almost naked; which seems closer to the truth. This analysis is found in a discourse on spectacles delivered in the year 399, under circumstances which will be discussed below. Ne quis in legem nostram, quam dudum tulimus, committat, nullus solis die populo spectaculum praebeat, nec divinam venerationem confecta solemnitate confundat. The Law of Arcadius and Honorius, issued in Ravenna at the beginning of 400, prohibits spectacles in the week preceding Easter, in the week after Easter, and on the days of Christmas and Epiphany. In the year 399, the same emperors protected only Sunday, and did not extend the law to those Sundays when the royal day happened. In this case, not everything seems quite clear. Some details of the conversation suggest that this fact took place during Holy Week. If so, then circus and theatrical performances were given on Good Friday and Saturday, and it is clear how serious the offense of the flock was. Monofocon saw some difficulties in such an explanation, and the most important thing is that St. John, in his conversation, delivered - with this understanding - on the very day of Easter, does not make any hints about the celebration of this day. But this is not a compelling argument, since at least in the conversation there are quite clear allusions to Good Friday. Let us add that everything we have previously said about the morals of the time allows us to assume the possibility of the existence at that time of many people who were quite capable of going to the circus or theater even on the day of the Passion of the Lord. In fact, in addition to the place indicated at the moment, we can note only one more passage, already quoted by us earlier - about night prayer, where he poetically describes the greatness of the starry sky.