41 All these things which have been mentioned, have indeed a miraculous appearance—rather, they are believed to have it—if they come to men's ears just as they have been brought forward; and we do not deny that there is in them something which, being placed in the fore front, as the saying is, may stun the ears, and deceive by its resemblance to truth. But if you will look closely at what was done, the personages and their pleasures, you will find that there is nothing worthy of the gods, and, as has already been said often, nothing worthy to be referred to the splendour and majesty of this race.
For, first, who is there who will believe that he was a god who was pleased with horses running to no purpose, and considered it most delightful that he should be summoned by such sports? Rather, who is there who will agree that that was Jupiter— whom you call the supreme god, and the creator of all things which are— who set out from heaven to behold geldings vieing with each other in speed, and running the seven rounds of the course; and that, although he had himself determined that they should not be equally nimble, he nevertheless rejoiced to see them pass each other, and be passed, some in their haste falling forward upon their heads, and overturned upon their backs along with their chariots, others dragged along and lamed, their legs being broken; and that he considered as the highest pleasures fooleries mixed with trifles and cruelties, which any man, even thought fond of pleasure, and not trained to strive after seriousness and dignity, would consider childish, and spurn as ridiculous?
Who is there, I say, who will believe— to repeat this word assiduously— that he was divine who, being irritated because a slave was led across the circus, about to suffer and be punished as he deserved, was inflamed with anger, anal prepared himself to take vengeance? For if the slave was guilty, and deserved to be punished with that chastisement, why should Jupiter have been moved with any indignation when nothing was being done unjustly, nay, when a guilty fellow was being punished, as was right?
But if he was free from guilt, and not worthy of punishment at all, Jupiter himself was the cause of the dancer's vitiating the games, for when he might have helped him, he did him no service— nay, sought both to allow what he disapproved, and to exact from others the penalty for what he had permitted. And why, then, did he complain and declare that he was wronged in the case of that dancer because he was led through the midst of the circus to suffer the cross, with his back torn by rods and scourges?
Source: Against the Heathen (New Advent)