On what must have been a dark day in the first century, leaders of the Roman Empire began loading exotic animals into crates.
Lions, leopards and crocodiles were led down ancient routes. Via Salaria, the “Salt Road,” and Via Latina carried them to populated destinations. As the wagons bumped and skidded through villages, the sound of the tortured filled the air. Growls. Roars. Wailing howls and gnashing of teeth.
For the bravest of onlookers, a peek might catch a pair of yellow eyes or the scaly back of a mythical creature. Onward they rolled toward the cities of Antioch, Caesarea Maritima and Catherage. All were home to impressive amphitheaters. None more gilded and outlandish than Rome and her Coliseum.
Justin Cox
There, above anywhere else, their purpose and fate were entertainment masked as law and order.
The animals were used as the means of the state. They carried out the executions of perceived offenders. This included nameless prisoners and criminals, runaway slaves, political rebels. Christians soon joined this group. Early church fathers and mothers, such as Ignatius, Perpetua and Felicitas, were considered enemies of Pax Romana and were dealt with by Emperors Trajan and Septimius Severus.
Other Caesars, famous and infamous, used the same method: Damnatio ad bestias.
“Condemnation to beasts,” or, in short, sentenced to death by wild animals. Legend says Emperor Nero dressed the condemned in the bloody, stripped coats of wild animals and let loose packs of vicious hunting dogs devour them as he watched.
This, like crucifixion and burning people alive, was used by the civilized rulers of the known world. Feeding people to animals was the action of men who ruled an empire of modernity. They built roads, made laws, engineered, practiced military discipline and achieved extraordinary things. They did not see themselves as barbarians.
Yet, they sent human beings to die not behind closed doors or in the deep bowels of some stinking, hopeless dungeon. But in front of cheering crowds. So much for refined culture.
Surely, though, we have come a long way. Humanity has gazed back on the echoes of time and learned from its mistakes and brutality. Yes, we have to deal with the Dark Ages, and one can’t forget the French Revolution and the guillotine’s weight, but we are better now, aren’t we?
Least we forget here in these Divided States of America the loose justice, spectacle and atrocity of public hangings. Only three generations have passed since 19-year-old African Americans, Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith, were dragged from a jail cell by a large white mob during the summer of 1930 in Marion, Ind., and hanged in front of several thousand onlookers. The scene inspired poet Abel Meeropol to pen “Strange Fruit.” 100 years later, have we moved on from this?
Yes. To screens.
“You can become numb to just about anything while also craving it.”
We consume violence throughout all our media. The detachment it provides may let us take in more, proving again that you can become numb to just about anything while also craving it.
In the States, we tune in every Sunday with religious fervor each fall to watch grown men collect concussions and run their bodies into oblivion all for the sake of glory.
We watch the continued rise of mixed martial arts. The Ultimate Fighter Championship generated $1.502 billion in total revenue last year. And $139.99 a year ensures you never miss an ounce of blood thanks to Paramount+ Premium.
Now we have slap fighting, a “sport” where men and women hit each other in the face to the cheers of many. Dear God, have mercy on us.
Nearly 2,000 years after Rome sold death in its amphitheaters, we have the promise of another public execution.
US Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth speaks during a news conference at the Pentagon in Washington, DC, on March 19, 2026. (Photo by Mandel NGAN / AFP via Getty Images)
When Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth spoke about making the execution of Fort Hood shooter Nidal Hasan available for public viewing, he said people should see that serious crimes have serious consequences. Perhaps.
My faith does not believe such. Maybe it’s because the lowly Galilean I profess to follow was executed by the powers of the state. I own my bias and hermeneutics.
Or maybe it’s because I secretly know there are plenty of people in the world worth killing. Still, I’m self-aware enough to know that neither I nor anyone else is fit to carry it out. However, if the state wishes to execute an individual, it most certainly can, but I draw a line when that same government encourages its citizens to watch a human being die.
It does not need my eyes to carry it out.
I will not become some vile thing that feeds and enjoys the death of another because I believe a person, however terrible their crimes, remains a person made in the image of God.
And when we are invited to feast our eyes on their death, we must reckon with what that invitation asks of us.
I will not give the state the satisfaction of turning me into their “beast.”
Justin Cox received his theological education from Campbell University and Wake Forest University School of Divinity and McAfee School of Theology, where he received his doctor of ministry. He is an ordained minister holding standing in the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship and American Baptist Churches USA. When not spending time with his spouse and daughters, he can be found writing and baking late into the night. His thoughts and reflections are his own.
Related:
Pete Hegseth’s gospel of violence | Analysis by Josh Olds
Justice does not require spectators | Opinion by Brian Henderson
Go ahead and livestream that firing squad execution! | Opinion by Mark Wingfield