Sacred Convergence: Pagan Myth and Christian Faith in the Florentine Renaissance

In the heart of Florence once stood “the temple where the baptistery is now located.”[1] Positioned as a Florentine centerpiece, the temple served as a sacred relic to Mars, son of the king of the gods in Roman mythology, Jupiter.[2] Mars, the god of war, was the lover of Venus and father of Romulus, the famed founder of Rome. With lineage to the gods, Romulus initiated the founding of a city called Rome that became an empire. It was this god to whom was built “an outstanding ancient structure which the pagans dedicated to Mars.”[3] The temple dedicated to the mythological god was eventually replaced by a Christian baptistery. That baptistery remains in Florence today, some six hundred years after the pen of Bruni fell silent and his body came to rest eternally in the basilica of Santa Croce.

This pagan temple, transformed into a Christian baptistery, serves as a typology of the convergence of the God of the Bible with the gods of Roman mythology, encapsulated within the cultural milieu of the Italian Renaissance.

This synthesis of religious traditions can be seen across multiple dimensions of Florentine life, from sacred architecture to ritual practice. Table 1 summarizes the major contrasts and continuities between pagan and Christian elements in Florence during the Renaissance, drawing on Etruscan, Greek, and Roman heritage alongside the city’s Catholic identity.

Sacred to the pagans, who revered it as a holy relic to Mars, the site became a point of theological convergence—pagan and Christian traditions merging into a single worldview during the Florentine Renaissance.

The craftsmen who erected the structure did so with meticulous care, for “the temple of Mars was built in the same spirit of emulation, for it was to this god that the Romans, superstitiously, traced their ancestry.”[4] A deep sense of cultural pride surrounded its construction, akin to that of the architects who designed and the builders who raised the city of Rome. This national and ethnic pride was woven into the collective psyche, rooted in the belief that Mars—offspring of Jupiter—was their genealogical forefather.

While the theological and cultural blend shaped Florence’s worldview, the city’s physical and symbolic center also underwent a profound transformation. Table 2 traces the historical progression of the site—from its pagan origins to its enduring role as a Christian landmark—across major periods of Florentine history.

The psychology of such lineage must have been profoundly empowering to the descendants of gods, known in this context as the Florentines. The spirit of Roman mythology was embedded in the “birth myth” of the Renaissance Florentine people.

Religious ritual, too, was borrowed from the Greeks. These people “received the Greek name, Etruscans, which referred either to their sacrificial rites or to their contemplation of clear skies.”[5] The Etruscans were the forerunners of the modern-day inhabitants of Tuscany, of which Florence is the center. The influence of Greek culture left an enduring mark on the region. Bruni notes that the name Etruscan may have originated either from associations with sacrificial rites of pagan gods or from astrological influences of the zodiac.[6] Modern archaeology confirms that Etruscan ancestors engaged in human sacrifice, based on discoveries of numerous burials—infants, children, and adults—in non-funerary contexts.[7]

Florence was a melting pot of cultural nuance. At the time of Bruni’s authorship of the History, Florentine culture generally embraced belief in the divine being of both God and gods. The Florentines recognized the role of apostolic authority in governing the Holy Roman Church, though the papacy was at times corrupted by men whose political agendas overshadowed their sacred office. Their religion centered on the Holy Roman Church, complete with its clergy, monks, and curia who carried out the work of the Holy See. Even within this vibrant Catholic framework, Bruni notes historically that the Romans also adopted their religious ceremonial and cultic practices from the Etruscans—and in these arts the Tuscans are reported to have excelled all other nations—doing this in such a way that they left the older rites in the charge of their Etruscan inventors. As soon as a serious crisis would threaten the commonwealth and the Romans decided that the spirits of the gods needed placating, priests and soothsayers would be summoned from Etruria. All such religious matters were referred to by the Romans as “Etruscan learning.” It seems to me that the Roman willingness to borrow these things shows that they had a certain respect for the Etruscans. Imperial insignia, religious ceremonies, and literary studies are excellent and important matters, things that relate to private as well as public life.[8]

A fusion of pagan religion emerged, upon which the Christian religion was cast. The Romans adopted Etruscan cultic practices in religion, art, and education in both private and public life. The Florentines appear to have developed a blended approach to deity, embracing both the biblical God and the mythological gods.[9]

Even amid the depth of pagan influence, a distinctly Christian worldview prevailed, with the monotheistic God as sovereign. The idea of God was deeply woven into the fabric of Florentine society. Bruni’s extant writings display, in many forms, a belief in God. Totila was referred to as “the Scourge of God.”[10] Florence conquered enemies “by the will of the gods.”[11] Great crises were averted. Not only did the Florentines have “brave hearts,” but they also enjoyed “the good will of God,” who ordained their relief from danger.[12] During revolutionary changes, “a comet was seen in the sky which terrified men the more as they are already fearful … and it was no vain portent …” because “a pestilence followed.”[13] The Florentine exiles turned to prayer. Bruni notes that “after much call of God and men to witness” they made a strategic decision as they faced “a great obstacle.”[14] He also records that one powerful leader had lived “without respect for the moral law [and] had done whatever his lust and cupidity had driven him to do; he had never shown the least shame before men or fear before God.”[15] In a speech to the Florentine people, Bruni records the words, “I pray God that He may put into your minds what will be the most salutary decision.”[16]

God is portrayed as the divine benefactor of the Florentine people. Charlemagne “certainly enjoyed both divine and human favor,” being “truly worthy of the highest position of emperor” and deserving “to be called ‘The Great’ not only for the greatness of his deeds but for excellence of his many virtues.”[17] Bruni further asserts, “it is by no means inappropriate to believe that the divine power by whose generosity victory was won, with an equal generosity announced his propitious favor instantaneously to the very persons he had favored.”[18] He attributes the salvation of the city from “imminent danger” as being “removed less by human aid than by divine beneficence.”[19] In a confession, Bruni offers a striking cultural statement about Florence’s social environment:

For my part, I confess, as one who practices the common life and moral customs of mankind, I am moved by the things that men hold to be goods: extending borders, enlarging empire, raising on high the glory and the splendor of the state, assuring our own security and advantage. If we say that these are not desirable things, then the welfare of the republic, patriotism, and practically this whole life of ours will be overthrown. If those who would dissuade you from taking Lucca despise such things and think them of no account, they are in their turn introducing new moral standards into life; if they approve of them and consider them goods, then they must necessarily believe that Lucca should be taken, for so many goods and advantages follow together therefrom. In my view, this opportunity has been offered us by a kind of divine beneficence, that we are now able to subdue to our power without danger or suffering the city from which first Uguccione della Faggiuola, then Castruccio, made dangerous war against us.[20]

References to “the common life and moral customs” offer hints of the social mindset of the time. A window into Florentine priorities emerges in their emphasis on “extending borders, enlarging empire, raising on high the glory and the splendor of the state, assuring our own security and advantage.” Equally telling is the concern that “the welfare of the republic, patriotism and practically this whole life” might be overthrown. Concluding his thoughts, the orator declared, “In my view this opportunity has been offered us by a kind of divine beneficence.”[21]

These texts provide a rare lens through which to view Renaissance Florence from a cultural perspective—one that deeply embraced the religious mind of the age. The convergence of pagan and Christian theology into a single worldview during the Florentine Renaissance laid the foundation for the full flowering of humanist thought. The spirit of Roman mythology, embedded in the “birth myth” of the Florentine people, shaped their theological tendencies. Religious ritual borrowed from the Greeks further established Florence as a cultural crossroads. The fusion of pagan religion created the framework upon which Christian religion was cast. Even with the weight of pagan influence, a distinctly Christian worldview emerged as sovereign in a culture in transition.

[1] Leonardo Bruni, History of the Florentine People (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2001), 1.4.
[2] Zeus in Greek mythology.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid., 1.5.
[5] Ibid., 1.13.
[6] Wayne Shumaker, The Occult Sciences in the Renaissance (Study in Intellectual Patterns) (University of California Press, 2009), 43. The reference to “contemplation of clear skies” is a reference to observing the skies for zodiacal signs.
[7] Nancy de Grummond, “Cult of the Kiln,” Archaeology 54, no. 1 (2001): 58–61.
[8] Ibid., 1.20.
[9] Ibid., 2.13; 2.107. Note reference to the will of the gods: "Mothers with flowing locks, priests bearing holy objects in their hands, pleaded for mercy. The Florentines (they said) had conquered the city by the will of the gods; they should spare the citizens and the innocent mob..." In addition, note the reference to the mythological Furies: "Like a man possessed by the Furies, he turned the matter over in his mind incessantly, comparing the two girls in terms of their appearance and the prominence of their families." The idea of the Christian God is well established in the varying aspects of culture within Renaissance trecento and quattrocento timeframes. Historical studies confirm the belief in pagan mythological gods in Rome and Greece. Bruni’s History acknowledges the historical presence of pagan mythology in Florence by virtue of the multiple references to the temple of Mars in the center of Florence and in-depth discussions of the influence of cultic sacrificial rites and astral theology. The idea of belief in a polytheistic framework is not affirmed in scholarly circles today. The question has not been answered as to how much direct influence pagan theology had upon the mind of the Renaissance citizenry as a whole and on the Christian in particular.
[10] Ibid., 1.63. "Such was Totila, whom some called the Scourge of God because of the savagery with which he inflicted carnage. He was of the Gothic race, though born and educated in Italy—we should like to note this because many persons, misled by vulgar traditions, have held quite different views about him."
[11] Ibid., 2.13.
[12] Ibid., 5.153.
[13] Ibid., 6.91. The term “portent” is defined as “a sign or warning that something, especially something momentous or calamitous, is likely to happen.”
[14] Ibid., 6.93.
[15] Ibid., 7.22.
[16] Ibid., 7.49.
[17] Ibid., 1.73.
[18] Ibid., 4.11.
[19] Ibid., 5.156.
[20] Ibid., 6.5.
[21] Ibid.