In the face of Christianity’s meteoric rise from a marginalized sect to a force transforming the empire, its detractors—whether Jewish critics, Greco-Roman philosophers, or imperial authorities—leveled a chorus of objections that reflected not only theological disagreement but cultural resistance, wounded pride, and spiritual blindness. Their criticisms, though diverse in tone and substance, ultimately revealed more about the anxieties of a fading world than the character of the faith they opposed.
Objections Against Christ Himself
The most immediate and visceral attacks were directed against the person of Jesus. His virgin birth was dismissed as an illegitimate conception; his choice of companions—unlettered fishermen and disreputable publicans—was cited as evidence of his obscurity and lowliness. His humble appearance, framed in the image of a servant, and the shameful death he suffered on a Roman cross were perceived as utterly incompatible with divine dignity. To many, these traits marked not a Savior but an imposter.
Celsus, the sharp-tongued Platonist, branded Christ a charlatan. But over time, opposition softened. As the religious landscape grew more pluralistic under the influence of Syncretism and Neo-Platonism, some thinkers began to view Jesus not as a fraud but as a sage of unusual depth—one among the pantheon of inspired moral teachers. Although they rejected his divinity, they could not deny the moral grandeur that radiated from his story.
Doctrinal and Theological Critiques of Christianity
If Christ could be grudgingly respected, the religion founded in his name was met with greater scorn. Chief among the objections was its novelty. In an ancient world that revered the weight of tradition and ancestral customs, the sudden eruption of Christianity—rooted in what many saw as barbaric Jewish origins—appeared audacious and disruptive.
Moreover, Christianity lacked the national foundations that gave Greek philosophy and Roman religion their enduring authority. It presented itself not as the faith of a people but as a universal proclamation, a creed for all. To the Roman mind, such cosmopolitanism smacked of subversion.
The teachings themselves were derided as fantastical and absurd. The doctrine of spiritual regeneration was seen as mystical folly; the promise of bodily resurrection an affront to common sense. Critics delighted in highlighting contradictions between the Old and New Testaments, between Gospel narratives, and especially between Paul and Peter—often pitting the apostolic voices against one another in an attempt to show the movement’s internal incoherence.
Perhaps most galling to the philosophically inclined was Christianity’s exaltation of faith over reason. It demanded, they said, not the disciplined exercise of logic, but an irrational surrender—a blind leap into dogma without proof or inquiry.
Cultural and Social Accusations Against the Christians
The attacks extended beyond doctrines and into the lives of the believers themselves. Christians were accused of atheism—not in the modern sense, but because they refused to honor the pantheon of Roman gods. Their worship of a crucified man appeared to Romans as grotesque impiety, a betrayal of religious norms.
They were derided for their poverty, their lack of formal education, and their social marginality. Their relentless zeal for moral reform was seen as disruptive innovation; their refusal to participate in civic rituals as evidence of disloyalty to the state. Their solemnity, their asceticism, and their inward focus were mocked as joyless and fanatical.
Sectarian divisions within the Church also gave ammunition to critics, who interpreted theological disputes as proof of instability and internal weakness. And most outrageously, they were occasionally slandered with charges of obscene and unnatural crimes—echoes of myths surrounding Oedipus and Thyestes. Though these accusations lacked any credible foundation, and even Celsus and Lucian refrained from endorsing them, they illustrate the desperation and fury with which Christianity’s opponents struck out.
One of the most absurd slanders was the claim that Christians worshipped an ass’s head. Tertullian, with biting sarcasm, suggested this myth may have originated from a tale preserved by Tacitus about Jews in the wilderness being led to water by a wild donkey. Regardless of its origin, the story testifies to the irrational passions stirred by Christianity’s presence in the empire. Such accusations, though manifestly false, were believed and repeated—evidence not of the faith’s failure, but of the cultural panic it provoked.
Reference
(90) Tertullian, Apologeticus, chapter 16: “You dream that our God has the head of a donkey. Cornelius Tacitus inserted such a suspicion in his account of a deity of that sort,” etc.
