Faith and the Faena: Biblical Lessons from the Spanish Arena

It is little secret that I am an aficionado of los toros. Through Spanish bullfighting, I have examined issues of life, death, morality, and politics that have profoundly impacted my views on a wide range of topics. One of those topics is religion, specifically the Christian faith. Perhaps no other profession (except war) places man against imminent death so often so closely than that of a torero. It is no wonder that so many are staunch believers in God, and their last stop before entering the ring is the capilla where they pray for protection and guidance.

For me, an ardent spectator, there is more to the religious angle than simply commitment to God in the face of an uncertain end of the night. There are lessons to draw from the corrida as an allegory for Christian life, from the written law to our behaviour in the face of social change. After years of watching matadors' performances with cheering crowds, protesting tendidos, and supreme authorities, I couldn't help but carry some of the greatest lessons forward in everyday life as I navigate a changing social and political world.

Iglesia Parroquial de Nuestra Señora del Portillo in Zaragoza, Spain

 The law is supreme. The bullfight is governed by regulations, laws which dictate every aspect of the performance. The bulls are to be raised in a certain manner, the corrida must progress within certain time limits and according to a specific format, and bullfighters must conduct themselves in a manner consistent with the law. While there are presidents responsible for administering the performance, aguacilillos for enforcing the president's administration, and apoderados who guide the matadors' performances and careers, ultimately, the law has the final, and only, word.

In much the same way, the Word is supreme in Christianity. The instructions laid out in the Bible guide us in our daily lives, determining the paths we take. While we can choose not to obey them in the name of popular fashion or trendy social ideas, that does not make the Word any less supreme or our actions any more legitimate. And, just as in bullfighting, we have those who are responsible for administering the law in our lives and guiding our behaviour within it. Our pastors, specially learned in theology, Church history, and morality, teach and guide us in accordance with the Word; Deacons assist the Church in holding its members accountable and supporting church functions; and our social groups drive our behaviours (hopefully in accordance with the Bible's teachings). However, these guides notwithstanding, ultimately the Word is the law. Like bullfighting regulations, the final, and only, word can be found in its pages. (2 Timothy 3:16-17; Psalm 19:7)

Our leaders as our guides. Every bullfight has a president who is specifically taught in the laws and traditions of the corrida. They are often prestigious individuals, such as mayors or councilmen, and their words carry significant weight in the community. Their influence and decisions in the ring are based on the law, not their personal preferences, and they are legally accountable for every decision that they make as the presiding officer. While the crowd may have their preferences on what sort of performance to reward or bull to return to the pens, they ultimately must defer to the president's authority and extensive knowledge of bullfighting law, traditions, and history.

Similarly, our pastors are our leaders and spiritual guides. Their specialized training makes them uniquely qualified to teach and interpret the Bible to their congregations. Good pastors, those who are true to their faith and profession, teach the Bible as it is without regard for social trends or political expediency. Therefore, we, as a congregation, should defer to their teachings and interpretations. When we disagree, we are free to express our reasoning and to seek out clarification which, hopefully, comes from the pastor's role and training as a spiritual leader rather than their personal opinions. This is not always a popular notion, and I, personally, have witnessed those in the Church who disagree with a pastor's decisions and teachings based on their opinions about how church leaders should dress and wear their hair regardless of the soundness of their spiritual beliefs and teachings. (Hebrews 13:7; 1 Timothy 5:17-19)

Opposing false teachings. Men are not infallible, and sometimes presidents place other considerations over the law. For example, they may not order an injured bull to be returned to the pens because the plaza will have to pay for its replacement, or they may not award a first ear despite the majority demand because they personally didn't like the performance. While understandable concerns, the law is clear on these issues. The president has no authority to make a decision which violates the law. In these instances, the crowd has a moral duty to protest the decision to ensure they don't happen again. In egregious circumstances, the community has the obligation to remove the president from his post or even have him arrested for his violations, not for their own self-righteous satisfaction but to ensure the integrity of the performance and prevent the president from leading other performances astray.

The Church is no different. Our leaders are not infallible (not even the Pope), and they, too, sometimes place other considerations over the Word in their teachings (an increasingly common phenomenon in the modern-day United Methodist and Presbyterian churches). For example, some teach that the Bible doesn't condemn homosexuality (which it does in Leviticus, Romans, and 1 Corinthians), others used Colossians and 1 Peter to justify slavery, and one particular pastor went viral teaching that Eve eating the apple was actually a good thing for womankind and that God actually lied to Adam and Eve about the effect the apple would have. In these instances where spiritual leaders violate the Word and their commitment to their faith in the name of social or political correctness, the congregation has the obligation to remove the person as their spiritual leader. While we do not arrest people for false teachings, we cannot abide them leading their congregations astray by allowing them to continue in their position. (Galatians 1:6-10; 2 Peter 2:1-22)

You must face what can kill you. In the ring, the matador is in constant peril. It is not until the last few minutes when he arms himself with the estoque that he can kill the bull. Until then, the bull has the advantage and can easily kill the matador. Nonetheless, the matador must step into the ring. This is not without fear or apprehension; indeed, you can see the emotions clearly on his face. Fear, though, is no excuse, and the matador must dutifully conduct his performance to the best of his ability.

Our walk in faith is no different. Eleven of the twelve apostles were martyred for teaching Christianity, often in gruesome ways, something they knew was not just a possibility, but a likely outcome for the evangelism. San Fermin was beheaded for preaching against Roman gods, Islamic State and Iran have beheaded Christian missionaries for proselytising to Muslims, and distributing Bibles to non-Christians is a jailable offence in many countries. Even so, we must step into the ring to serve others and fulfil the Great Commission. Fear is no excuse, and we are called to dutifully conduct ourselves to the best of our ability. (Matthew 10:28-31; Acts 20:23-30)

Borja Jiménez faces a toro de lidia in Albacete, Spain

Perils of missteps. Men are not infallible, and matadors sometimes fall into the trap of over-confidence, arrogance, or performing outside of their abilities. This trap often leads to missteps, poor timing, or miscalculations in front of the bull, all of which can have dire consequences. If a matador is lucky, the bull will only catch his jacket, an intense, but momentary, reminder to return to the corrida's true form. If his misstep is severe, the bull will catch his flesh, thrash him about, and send him to the hospital with a grave prognosis. For the worst offences, the bull will kill him in the ring in front of thousands of witnesses.

Missteps in faith will lead us to a similar end, maybe not in this lifetime, but in the everlasting afterlife. We all misstep, make mistakes, and fall short, and that will never change. Like the matador, we can correct ourselves and return to the true path before things go too far, but that doesn't mean we will be free from consequences. Sure, in the regular world we are not in jeopardy of a horn through the leg, but the emotional, mental, and familial tolls can wreak just as much havoc. If we refuse to change our ways, that havoc can turn to turmoil, destitution, or eternal separation from Heaven. (James 1:13-15; Proverbs 14:11-12)

Popular opinion vs. faithful commitment. In a bullfight, the spectators play a specific role in judging and rewarding the matador's performance. Their judgement, however, cannot come at the expense of the law, and the president cannot concede to their judgement should it be at odds with the law. If a matador has a successful faena, but ends the estocada with a pintura, for instance, the crowd may still demand a trophy, but the president cannot award it, as pinturas are unequivocally prohibited from receiving reward. At the same time, the crowd may decry a matador's performance for not being daring, artistic, and "pure" enough in their eyes, even if the matador adheres to the strictest, most traditional interpretations of the art. The crowd's demand for "something different" cannot override the matador's duty to his profession, cultural tradition, and the law.

Too often in the modern world, popular opinion governs the congregation's behaviour and desires for their pastor's spiritual teachings. We want to be told that everything is fine and the way set out in the Bible needs to be re-interpreted through modern eyes. Our spiritual leaders, if they are good, will not acquiesce to these desires, instead holding true to the true Word even in the face of protest or rebellion. It is not popular to teach the relationship between man and wife as laid out in Ephesians, but that doesn't change the fact that it is a part of Paul's letters in the Bible; meanwhile, it is popular to teach that “made in God’s image” as man and woman doesn’t specifically mean we are innately so from birth. Regardless, popular culture or fear of being ostracised cannot override our commitment to living according to the true Word, nor can it deter the Church's faithful teachings and commitments. (2 Timothy 4:2-5; Romans 12:2)

Denominations and in-fighting. Aficionados are as divided against each other as they are against the antitaurinos. The infamous Tendido 7 in Madrid demands adherence to the strictest interpretations of bullfighting (like that of Morante de la Puebla), while the younger generation prefers daring feats of bravery (like those of Roca Rey). Crowds in Albacete like obedient bulls which any matador can control with ease, while Sevillanos expect matadors to handle even the most difficult bulls with masterful skill. Partygoers at San Fermin want entertainment, while Madrileños want art. They argue on social media, in newspapers, and at social gatherings over the tiniest particulars which their interpretations favour despite those particulars ultimately being grounded in law and tradition while having little relevance to the overall culture of tauromaquia.

Christians are no different as the Baptists, Methodists, and Catholics argue and divide themselves over the minute details of doctrine rather than uniting under the singular banner of the Christian faith. The "dunk vs. sprinkle" argument between the Baptists and Methodists is ultimately inconsequential while both claim to be grounded in Biblical teachings. The Catholic Church requires that "mixed marriages" (i.e., between Protestants and Catholics) raise their children as Catholics and not Protestant, despite both being of the Christian faith. Some denominations believe that the bread and wine are literally transformed into flesh and blood during communion while others maintain that it is a symbolic representation, a doctrinal issue that causes more theological harm than good in a world that is falling to secular ideals while Islam spreads as the fastest-growing religion. (1 Corinthians 1:10-17; Ephesians 4:3-6)

Parting Thoughts

I am not claiming that the Church and the corrida are the same, nor that they share a lineage of theology or tradition. They are not connected in that way. But God speaks to us where we are and through the lives we lead. For me, that has recently been through the Spanish bullfight. Through the corrida, I began to understand critical aspects of faith and religion in a context which spoke to me. Years of watching matadors face death, seeing the unwavering commitment to form and law, and hearing the roars and protests of the crowd caused me to reflect on biblical teachings from an unexpected perspective. Now, back in Texas, I confront these teachings at my home church, be it from the congregation’s behaviour or the pastor’s sermons, and I am frequently debated by friends of different denominations on theological and doctrinal differences between our beliefs. Without the corrida, I never would have fully appreciated the deep-rooted issues which grounds my beliefs and Christianity as a whole.