Discussion Questions

David Bercot highlights that the Olympic Games began with “prayer and sacrifice” to pagan gods; how does that origin shape the early Christians’ refusal to participate, and what does it suggest about what God is (and isn’t) willing to share with rival worship? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Since the Olympics started with prayers and sacrifices to pagan gods, why did early Christians refuse to join in? What does that show about what God will not share with other worship?

The transcript says an Olympic athlete would be “put out of the church,” and a former athlete “would not allow you to be baptized until you totally had left that off”; what does that reveal about early Christian assumptions regarding repentance, moral credibility, and what counts as a genuine break with a former life? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why would an Olympic athlete be kicked out of the church and not allowed to be baptized until they quit? What does that say about what early Christians thought real repentance and a real life change looked like?

Bercot contrasts evangelicals refusing Halloween for pagan origins while embracing the Olympics; what do you think drives that inconsistency, and what does it expose about modern Christian instincts for drawing boundaries around “worldly” practices? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why do some Christians reject Halloween because of pagan roots but accept the Olympics anyway? What does that say about how Christians today decide what is “worldly”?

Tertullian describes sports crowds as “rages, passions, arguments,” with “curses and reproaches” and “cries of applause with nothing genuinely to merit them”; when you think about modern sports fandom (in person or on screens), what parts of that description feel uncomfortably accurate in your own reactions, speech, and emotional investment? JumpstartAnother way to ask: When you watch or talk about sports, where do you see the “rage,” arguing, insults, or over-the-top cheering Tertullian described? What parts of that sound like you at times?

Tertullian argues, “Since all passionate excitement is forbidden to us, we are barred from every kind of spectacle”; what do you think he means by “all passionate excitement,” and how would adopting that standard confront common evangelical ideas about Christian freedom, neutrality, and “it’s just entertainment”? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What do you think Tertullian meant by “all passionate excitement” being wrong for Christians? If we took his view seriously, how would it challenge ideas like “Christian freedom” and “it’s just entertainment”?

The Roman circus is described not just as racing but as a social environment with shops, food, and prostitutes, and Ovid explicitly teaches men to use it to start affairs; how did early Christians likely evaluate not only the event but the whole social atmosphere—and what present-day environments function similarly even if the “main event” seems harmless? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How would early Christians judge not just the races, but the whole circus scene with food, shopping, and sexual temptation? What places today are like that, where the main activity seems fine but the whole setting pulls people toward sin?

Tertullian says the Romans recognized entertainment abstinence as “the chief sign” someone had become a Christian—people stopped showing up at the shows; what practices today would make unbelievers suspect you had become a Christian, and what does the absence of any such “chief sign” imply about our discipleship? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If people in Rome saw quitting shows as a clear sign someone became Christian, what would be a clear sign today? If nothing about our daily habits stands out, what might that say about our discipleship?

Athenagoras says, “to see a man put to death is much the same as killing him,” and Theophilus says Christians shouldn’t even “witness” gladiator shows lest they become “partakers and abetters”; what view of God’s holiness and of human conscience is behind the idea that spectatorship itself can implicate you in sin? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why did some early Christians think just watching people die in gladiator games made you part of the sin? What does that say about God’s holiness and how our conscience is shaped by what we watch?

Lactantius describes spectators demanding death, growing angry at delays, and being “filled with this practice” until they “have lost their humanity”; where do you see modern equivalents of entertainment that trains people to enjoy cruelty or humiliation, and how might repeated exposure reshape what you feel is normal or acceptable? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What kinds of entertainment today train people to enjoy cruelty or humiliation? How can watching that over and over change what feels normal or okay to us?

Bercot argues Christians didn’t oppose the arena because it was unpopular but because it was wrong—and that Christian influence helped abolish the games; what would it look like for Christians today to be a community whose entertainment choices quietly undermine what the culture profits from, and what specific habits would have to change first (time, money, conversation, media, weekends)? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What would it look like for Christians today to weaken harmful entertainment industries simply by what we choose not to watch or support? What would you have to change first—your time, money, conversations, media habits, or weekends?