The Future of Ministry: You Aren’t a Piece of Dog $#!+

(I’m considering reentering professional ministry. The following ideas are what I hope that will look like.)

Many Christians have an identity problem.

To hear them speak on Sunday mornings and particularly in their public prayers, they make themselves seem like the most horrible people that ever walked the planet. They like to use words like “corrupt,” “terrible,” and “sinner.”

Now, during the week they don’t refer to themselves with these terms. Instead they might define themselves by their job, or their relationships, or their hobbies. Not on Sunday mornings, though. On Sundays they think of themselves as dog $#!+.

But Jesus never calls anyone dog $#!+. He does compare a large group of people to dogs in Mark 7:24-30. When a Gentile woman asked Jesus to heal her daughter, Jesus says, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Jesus pretty clearly compares the Jewish people to God’s children and non-Jews to dogs. Ouch, Jesus. However, the woman takes Jesus to task – she says, “Even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

And she’s right. And Jesus knows it.

But we don’t know it.

I have a dog. He is a dachshund, and his name is George.

I love George as much as a person can love a dog. I buy him treats, he sits on my lap, and, like the woman says in the story, he gets my table scraps. Not always, but enough that he knows what good food tastes like.

Also, George is the only being on the planet that is allowed to lick my face. How’s that for a place of honor?

This Gentile woman takes Jesus’ metaphor about non-Jews being dogs and explains what it really means – that even Gentiles have a special place in God’s heart.

I love my children. They get the best I can provide for them. I love them and listen to them and I would die for them. I do my best to ensure that they will grow into loving adults.

But as the woman in the story points out, I also love my dog in a special way. There is no other non-human being who has such a place in my life and heart.

And that is what I hope any future ministries I am involved in will be about – helping people see that they are not dog $#!+. Instead, the worst Jesus ever calls them is a dog, and what a place of honor it is to be the dog of God!

But while the lowest thing Jesus calls us is dog (with all of it’s benefits and honors), he says that the lowest person in the Kingdom of God (more on the Kingdom of God later) is greater than John the Baptizer, Jesus’ forerunner.

More on that in the next post.

Next:

The Reason Everybody Loves Jesus

Comparing Fundamentalists: An Undercover Observation

The Languages of Fundamentalism
Important Note: The use of the term “Fundamentalist” in this post is directly related to Susan Harding’s book, The Book of Jerry Falwell. Harding’s book was written about groups like the ones observed below during a time when they used the term “Fundamentalist” to describe themselves. Today, these groups generally prefer the term “Evangelical.” Please know that my use of the term “Fundamentalist” is used only for clarity’s sake in tying these observations to Harding, Dochuk, and Luhrmann’s books, and carries none of the connotative meaning some people ascribe to it today.

Sunday, March 17th is a sluggish day for more than one reason. I have just come off of a Spring Break week visiting friends and family in my home state of Oklahoma. Over the break, Daylight Savings Time has swept the nation, but until this Sunday I have been able to ignore it. Waking up bleary-eyed and groping for coffee, I review my plans to attend two local congregations affiliated with the Baptist Bible Fellowship, the most famous member of which being the topic of much discussion in Susan Harding’s book, The Book of Jerry Falwell: Fundamentalist Language and Politics. Having read Harding’s book, I expect my visits to local congregations will consist of a great deal of insider language that reveals how Fundamental Baptists see the Bible, themselves, and the world, as well as political discussions and the political role of the Christian.[1]Being that this Sunday is also Saint Patrick’s Day, I decide to play it safe and wear a green shirt, thinking most people wouldn’t know the orange-is-for-Protestants, green-is-for-Catholics rule. Green shirt and dress pants in place, with only a few sips of coffee helping me into the morning, I step outside into the soft March rain and head first to Southern Hills Baptist Church’s early service.[2]

As I approach the wide, glass entrance to Southern Hills Baptist Church, two older gentlemen open two doors and extend two hands, offering two firm handshakes and two hearty “Good morning”s. I enter the all-glass threshold, alone in a large foyer but happy to be out of the rain. I hunt around for a few minutes with two goals in mind: a full cup of coffee (still missing from my morning) and literature about the beliefs of Southern Hills Baptist. I am still unable to procure my morning beverage, although I overhear one man say he is off to get a cup, but he disappears quickly and without a trace. I do find, however, the ever-present brochure/tract rack tucked into a corner near the entrance. Hoping to not appear greedy, I grab several tracts that look most promising regarding the beliefs of Southern Hills Baptist: “The Heart of the Cross,” which I am sure will express crucicentrism; “Life Begins at…” which I am betting addresses abortion and the Christian’s political responsibility about it (I am wrong); “A Prayer for America,” which I think will discuss the decline of America and the needed lack of separation between Church and State (I am right); “Why Do I Need Church,” which is full of similes and metaphors about what the local congregation is and does; “God’s Simple Plan of Salvation,” which is exactly what it sounds like; and a tract simply titled “Baptism,” which gives the who, why, how, and when of the rite. Putting these bits of information aside, I head into the auditorium, this time greeted by an older woman who shakes my hand and gives me more paperwork, this time consisting mostly of announcements and prayer requests for the congregation. Knowing the perpetual power-plays present in picking a pew in plenty of Protestant places of worship, I scout out a seat in the back on the side, hoping to be able to take notes inconspicuously during the service. My plan for stealthy observation is foiled, however, by Donnie Rivers.

Donnie is a friendly, middle-aged man with a strong, welcoming handshake. We introduce ourselves to each other, and upon hearing I am attending MSU, Donnie excitedly tells me about Connect, Southern Hills Baptist’s new campus ministry. I thank him for the information and assure him I will look into it. He welcomes me once again, and I make my way to my observation pew. As I am claiming my territory, an older woman comes over to greet me and welcome me to their congregation, and encourages me to choose a Sunday School class. Having not the heart to tell her that during their Sunday School hour I will already be at another congregation, I thank her for her advice and welcome, and she returns to her seat.

The auditorium at Southern Hills Baptist has an all-glass back wall, enabling people inside the auditorium to see into the hall and vice-versa. A large balcony hangs over the semi-circular bottom floor. Stained glass windows surround the stage, coloring an otherwise monochromatic palette. The Christian and American flags flank the stage distantly, and the pulpit stands front and center, occupying a protrusion of stage thrust out toward the audience. The area behind the pulpit is reserved for the orchestra, and behind the orchestra a space is reserved for the choir. On the back wall, high above the congregation is the baptistery. Down in front of the stage, almost below eyesight due to the pews in front, are two anxious benches, long and made of hardwood.

The service officially begins with an upbeat version of “What a Mighty God We Serve,” complete with clapping from the congregation. A song leader directs the congregation, accompanied by two pianos, a bass and an electric guitar, two trumpets, a trombone, a clarinet, a saxophone, an electric drum set, and a 28-person choir. The congregation that joins them numbers around 200, almost exclusively white, with two minorities visible from where I sit, and about half of the early service congregation is completely gray or bald. Aside from a four-year-old blond girl in my row and two teenagers in the balcony, I am the youngest person in the room. After the first song, there is no more clapping. During a later song, “He Touched Me,” one man tentatively raises his hand to about shoulder height, but other than that the congregation is reserved in posture, many with hands folded in front of their bodies. After an introduction by the pastor, a prayer of invocation is offered. During the prayer, the invoker introduces what will become the unintentional theme of the morning with the words, “Thank you for the clouds, because they remind us you will come in the clouds.” The service continues with a promo video for the upcoming Easter service, which invites everyone to find ways to serve during the Easter celebration. After a few more songs, during which the song leader turns to face and direct the orchestra and choir, and a subdued but emotional instrumental version of “Great is Thy Faithfulness” during the offering collection, the service transitions to the sermon, and the pastor takes the stage.

The sermon this morning is part of a series on Philippians entitled, “The Pursuit of Joy” focusing particularly on Philippians 2:12-18. As the preacher reintroduces his series to the congregation, I am struck by several particularities about his speaking style. The pastor’s volume remains at what is best described as a yell, much louder than a person would normally speak, especially with technological amplification. In addition to volume, the pastor speaks very quickly, so quickly that it is difficult to write down more than one or two phrases or Bible references at a time. The preacher’s normal mode of operation is to read from the Bible while standing behind and holding the pulpit, and to move away from and slightly to the side of the pulpit when addressing the congregation. The most common word the preacher speaks is a loud, “AMEN?” to which the congregation mumbles “amen” in response. This “AMEN?”/”amen” interaction happens at least 20 times during the sermon.

The preacher’s language is not exactly what I am expecting, but it does not disappoint. True to Harding’s observations about Fundamentalist Baptists, this pastor frequently uses the Bible typologically. In reintroducing the audience to his series, he makes no mention in the extreme gaps in time, language, culture, or geography between the Church of Philippi and Southern Hills Baptist Church. He often makes scripture references so quickly and in such succession that it is impossible to write down both the reference and what it says; it is clear that contextual analysis is not part of this theologian’s aims. In a matter of minutes he references the main passage for the day, Philippians 2:12-18, as well as Psalm 100;10; Proverbs 1:7; Isaiah 66; the book of John, “from death to life”; Acts 1, “witnesses”; Romans, being a “living sacrifice”; 1 Corinthians, “glorify God in your body”; and Ephesians, “we are God’s workmanship.” He also explains at some length as to how Hebrews 11 offers a typological interpretation of many of the persons in the Old Testament. For this preacher, the congregation is in these Bible stories and references; there is no separation. In addition to exemplifying this kind of use of the Bible, during the sermon the preacher says, “We like to read the Bible as optional,” but instead we should revere it. He cites Isaiah 66 as scriptural support for this statement. In addition to showing the Hebrews 11 makes typological examples of Old Testament characters, he explains that in the Old Testament, “salvation was always about faith.” This theme of faith, rather than joy, seems to be his intended message, but it often takes a darker turn. He states plainly that, when we are standing before God at the pearly gates, our feeling will not be one of joy, or love, or peace, but fear. He says that when we “face Christ at the Judgment Seat,” fear will be our reaction. At one point, the preacher says “we have lost our fear of God,” and the congregation spontaneously blurts out, “Yes,” and many nod their heads, a reaction categorically unlike the demanded “amen” response they are used to giving. Harding also makes note of hybridity, or mixing secular and religious language, and one example stands out from this service. Regarding the fear we should all be feeling at the prospect of meeting God, the pastor tells us that we worship and obey God “not as fire insurance, not just as getting out of Hell free.” This theme of fear is brought home with the repeated admonition to “go to work,” meaning living out the faith you claim. He is quick to clarify, though, that we are “not working for salvation, but working out salvation.” The predominantly fundamentalist ideas of salvation, of a “wicked and perverse world,” and witnessing (“don’t hide your light under a bushel!”) all make appearances in the final moments of the sermon.

After the conclusion of the sermon at Southern Hills Baptist, I head back out into the warm, Spring-like rain to a congregation just down the road, Springdale Baptist Church. The service starts at 10:15, so I have time to consider stopping by the Starbucks that is just a stone’s throw away. I take a chance and bet there is a cup waiting for me at Springdale Baptist. I arrive in time to scout the parking lot for bumper stickers that will give clues to religious and political beliefs (I only find an “America Bless God” sticker) and makes and models of cars that will indicate social class (lots of Hondas, Chevys, Fords, Toyotas, and the occasional Acura, Buick, Lexus, and Mazda, just like at Southern Hills Baptist Church).

Inside, I again conduct my simultaneous search for coffee and literature, and find only the latter. Absent is the tract/brochure stand, but instead a large information center contains various flyers about upcoming events. Several mention ways people can serve the community, one gives information about donating to their building campaign, and full-color postcards are available for people to hand out as invitations to the upcoming Easter service.

The architecture of Springdale is noticeably different than Southern Hills. The ceilings in the hallway are several stories high, giving the place a much roomier, more open feel. Along the walls, high above everyone’s heads, are flags from various nations around the world, as well as windows that let in what cloudy light there is from outside. Entering the auditorium door, I’m handed another bulletin full of events and announcements geared toward congregation members. The auditorium itself carries on the feel of the hall outside: large, handwritten, multi-colored neon posts line the walls of the stage with words in English and other languages: “Let Us Love,” “God So Loved the World,” “Amo Dios al Mundo,” “Lebu Upendo,” “Mungu aliupenda Ulimwengu,” “Amemonos,” “Cualquier persona que el ama,” as well as several with Asian text. The Christian and U.S. Flags are on the stage, close to the choir area. A notable amount of greenery lines the stage, surrounds the pulpit, and borders the baptistery on the back wall. There are also two mourners’ benches in front of the stage, but farther to the sides than at Southern Hills, and close to the stage so that the front wall of the stage can be used like a wailing wall. The pulpit is front and center here as well, clearly the focal point of the entire room. Unlike Southern Hills, a large cross adorns the center wall at the back of the stage at Springdale. However, here at Springdale there is also no other religious art of any kind.

Just like at Southern Hills, I was greeted inside the auditorium by an older gentleman inquiring who I was, why I was there, and my interest in their congregation. Fred Klein asked my name, where I was from, and what brought me to town. I explained I was from Oklahoma (he had been to Muskogee), and that there was an army base where I was from (he had been at Ft. Leonard Wood), and that I was attending MSU. “What for?” “I’m getting a Masters in Religious Studies.” “Well, Psychology and Religious Studies will get you a quarter and…a phone call.” I wasn’t sure quite what he meant or how to respond, so I explained an advanced degree in religious studies opens up chaplaincies and other professional positions I was interested in. “Well, good luck with that” he said, trying to not be offensive. I thanked him and claimed another seat near the back.

The song service kicks off with an upbeat version of “I Am a Friend of God,” and just like at Southern Hills, it is the only song during which people clap. There are two video screens over and to the side of the stage where lyrics on moving backgrounds are displayed for convenience. This song leader has four female backup singers and a larger band consisting of an acoustic, electric, and bass guitar, an electric drum set, one piano, and an orchestra consisting of a baritone, a clarinet, a flute, two saxophones, and two trumpets, as well as another 28-person choir. Songs in this set are more friendly and personal, including “He Knows My Name” and “Come Just As You Are.” During the song service, the pastor interrupts my singing along to welcome me and shake my hand. There is an announcement video on the screens. The congregation seems a bit larger, possibly due to the later starting time, and noticeably younger, perhaps for the same reason. Perhaps only twenty percent of the congregation is gray or bald, and I am certainly not the youngest person in the room. In addition to far fewer suits, I spy several visible tattoos on the backs of two women several rows in front of me. There may not be much diversity here either, but the median age has definitely dropped with my short drive westward.

The sermon begins, and I notice immediate differences between this pastor and the previous one. This pastor speaks at a normal volume, and also speaks with a much more interactive and conversational style. He frequently makes jokes (his best one was “I was born at 7:34am, and that was the only time I was ever up before 8.”), tells personal details about his life, and pauses his speech, all things unheard of at Southern Hills. Just like the pastor of Southern Hills, the Bible is his focus, with his message being “God’s Plan for Building the Church,” centered on Matthew 28:19-20. However, instead of rattling off references and quotes faster than the mind can conceive, this pastor encourages people to read their Bibles with him. He notes that there are Bibles available in the pews, but many people have brought their own. During his sermon, he gives people time to turn to the correct passages so they can read along with him. While this may seem like it would shorten the amount of scriptures used, he still manages to get in Genesis 1, Matthew 28:19-20, John 17:17, Acts 2:41, Acts 8:12, Acts 10 (a reference to the events in the chapter), Acts 18:8, Romans 6:4-6, and Ephesians 4:11. The version used by the congregation, or at least the pastor, is the King James Version, the one containing, in the pastor’s own words, “the King’s English.” There is no explanation given as to why they use it, or if it is okay to use another version, but the woman in the pew in front of me uses a well-worn NIV rather unashamedly. There is also no separation noted between the church of Ephesus and Springdale. The pastor also uses some insider languages, and openly admits to it; he addresses “visitors and unbelievers” that may be in attendance today, inviting them to get a “look at what Church is supposed to be.” He then addresses the believers, encouraging them to consider if they are fulfilling their role. He also asks “Amen?” one time, and it is reciprocated, but this happens only once. Generally, the interaction between him and the congregation is based on laughter and thoughtful silence. I later learned that the pastor has a designated parking spot closest to the front door, another indication of the congregation’s appreciation for the man and/or the office he holds.

At Springdale there is a notable amount of typology and distinctively fundamentalist language, as well as some subtle political statements. The theme of the sermon, “Church Growth Plan,” refers not only to the Great Commission, but sometimes to the capital campaign they have for future building plans. Paul and Jesus’ disciples are “evangelists,” just like we are supposed to be, and equipping believers is like equipping “our soldiers in harm’s way.” Mature believers are often referred to as joints, particularly elbows, that help other parts perform their functions. Baptism is compared to the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus, and is deemed “symbolic.” Most interestingly, the Bible is directly equated with a gun – everyone needs to be equipped with it and trained on how to use it. The pastor expounds on this, stating that he has his permit to carry a concealed weapon, and explains how he grew up around guns, his father being a policeman. He talks at some length about gun safety, and how his wife used to be hesitant around guns, but now knows he is competent to handle one safely. All of us, he explains, need to be trained on using the Bible correctly and having one close by…just like a gun. The Bible is also described as the symbol of a believer, and as a tool for living as a believer “outside these walls.” In addition, phrases like “trusted Jesus Christ as my savior,” “living in sin,” “evangelism…making disciples,” and the importance of Jesus being crucified for sins are all mentioned. Baptism is also discussed in relation to other cultures, where “baptism alienates people from their families and their culture…and they are killed.” Such a strong political statement is not explained, perhaps referencing one of their many missionaries or an experience of which they are already familiar.

Overall, this congregation seems more casual and friendly. Instead of words like “AMEN?” and “fear” being the most frequently heard, the words “family” and “church” are the most commonly heard. In addition to a more relaxed and relatable rhetorical style, the pastor intentionally encourages interaction with the congregation, hoping to equip them with the Bible rather than simply machine-gun references at them.

Southern Hills Baptist and Springdale Baptist are shockingly different and in many ways the same. Both congregations use the Bible typologically, with no distance between Old Testament figures, New Testament figures, or themselves.[3]They are living out the Bible in that respect, while at the same time probably claiming to take the Bible “literally.” Both congregations rely heavily on the Bible as their support and authority, rather than on tradition, experience, or reason. However, both of these congregations exert very different rhetorical atmospheres. Southern Hills Baptist Church has what I imagine the intense feeling associated with fundamentalist Baptists like Jerry Falwell, but it also lacked, at least on this occasion, the political passion of Falwell. They seem to live the Bible just as Falwell and crew did, but perhaps the political decline of the evangelical right Dochuk notes is a reality this congregation lives.[4]While they lament a fallen America, at least in a tract, their speech is surprisingly absent regarding hot-button issues like abortion, gay marriage, creationism, second amendment rights, or the righteousness of the Republican Party. However, they have not lost their fear of God,[5]and openly state we should regain that quality.

Springdale Baptist Church provides a different feeling altogether. While maintaining their focus on the Bible, they have also cultivated a warm, “family”-friendly atmosphere. As Luhrmann suggests of the Vineyard, these Fundamentalist Baptist may actually imagine God as their “Best Friend.”[6]They still rely heavily on the Bible as their authority, and they do not shy away from their political beliefs regarding religious freedoms and the normalcy and rightness of personal firearms. They see their religion in the Bible, in their own lives, and in the nations to whom they send emissaries, whose flags adorn their walls. Springdale maintains the Fundamentalist Baptist treatment of the Bible, but has somehow incorporated a bit of evangelical Pentecostalism as well.

As is often the case, simply reading about a group of people will provide you with a fairly simple, narrow vision of who they are, what they think, and how they act. Such was the case with The Book of Jerry Falwell. Leaving the house this rainy Sunday morning, I expected to see two congregations behaving pretty much like Falwell and the gang, claiming “literal” Biblical interpretation but typologizing everything in sight, and taking bold stands against liberalism and claiming a strong, Christian America. I found no such thing at either congregation. Sure, they have a basic, fundamental understanding of the Bible as their authority, and are even prone to employ typology in the Bible and to their world – Luhrmann is right about that. But that is where the comparison ends. These two congregations, both bearing the lineage of “Fundamentalist Baptist” could only feel more different if they were from different lineages. One loudly impresses notions of fear and loss and rigidity, while the other has neon, sloppily drawn posters in their most holy place. One never stops to take a breath, while the other welcomes laughter and silence and patience with a neighbor. Instead of “Fundamentalist Language,” I have learned that there are “Fundamentalist Languages.” While there are many underlying similarities regarding views of scripture and its usage, the method of delivery almost seems to be from different planets. While the basic message may be almost identical, the tone, the location, the feel of the environment, and the emotions displayed and discussed has a dramatic effect on the message. There are, in fact, two languages of fundamentalism, and probably many more out there as well.

Works Cited

Dochuk, Darren. From Bible Belt to Sun Belt: Plain-Folk Religion, Grassroots Politics, and the

Rise of Evangelical Conservatism. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2011.

Harding, Susan Friend. The Book of Jerry Falwell: Fundamentalist Language and Politics.

Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000.

Luhrmann, T. M. When God Talks Back: Understanding the American Evangelical Relationship

with God. New York: Vintage Books, 2012.

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[1] Susan Friend Harding, The Book of Jerry Falwell: Fundamentalist Language and Politics (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000), 20-21.

[2] All names, including the names of congregations, ministries, and persons, have been changed for privacy reasons.

[3] Harding, 272. Harding’s best line regarding this idea bears repeating: “There is no gap between story and event, between Bible-based language and reality. Or, more accurately, like biblical realists before the coming of modernity, modern Bible believers effectively and perpetually close the gap and so generate a world in which their faith is obviously true.”

[4] Darren Dochuk, From Bible Belt to Sun Belt: Plain-Folk Religion, Grassroots Politics, and the Rise of Evangelical Conservatism (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 2011), 397-409.

[5] T. M. Luhrmann, When God Talks Back: Understanding the American Evangelical Relationship with God (New York: Vintage Books, 2012), 102.

[6] Luhrmann, 74.

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century, Part 5 – Conclusions

Conclusion

Viewing such different and disagreeing texts on the nature of Christian practice in the second century, it becomes increasingly unlikely that a large amount of uniformity existed among the house churches in each city.[1]In the first century, there existed no formal, universal leadership structure, although moves toward that end were certainly being made. In the same way, norms for practices like baptisms, prayers, fasts, and the Eucharist also began to develop. By the second century, the primary sources present separate communities operating with distinct models of leadership and congregational practices. Norms for proper liturgy and hierarchical leadership continue to emerge, but are not at all universally practiced.

In the first century, there seemed to be little or no distinction between the offices/roles of the bishop and the presbyter, and that the monarchical episcopacy was therefore a later development.[2]  It is evident from the writings of Ignatius and Clement that even in the beginning of the second century, there was still some dispute as to the distinction or unity of those roles/positions. If these two roles were actually one, it brings up the question of why they were ever separated. Conzelmann suggests that the role of bishop developed to handle economic administration, “but its later development is hardly explained from this.”[3]The office of bishop clearly becomes one of authority rather than financial administration, which again leaves us with the question of why it actually developed.

This leads to the question of what forces pressed these practicing Christians toward institutionalization. A number of forces likely contributed to the trend of institutionalization, but two reasons seem to offer the best insight. It is most likely that internal and external pressures, as well as the age of the Christian sect, all contributed to standardization in leadership, worship practices, and meeting houses.

The external pressure of persecution and the internal pressures of differing theologies and practices likely played the largest role in the creation of the institutional church. Conzelmann particularly highlights the threat of heresy, and that institutionalization was necessary to create norms by which to identify heresy.[4]Particularly in the prolific writings of Ignatius, docetic teachings and Judaizing tendencies among the congregations he addresses seem readily apparent.[5]It is likely, then, that in an effort to squelch these branches of the Christian tradition, a hierarchy that enforced a normative theology and practice were instituted. Wright agrees that the trends toward formal, standardized government and practice was the direct response of the churches to problems, and that under different circumstances we would likely have seen the church develop in completely different ways.[6]It is important, though, to keep in mind that docetic and Judaizing movements were legitimate expressions of the Christian faith at the time, and we are right to also refer to them as house churches of this period. It is only by hindsight and acceptance of enforced “orthodoxy” that gives us the designations of “heresy” or “heterodox.”[7]Indeed, these transitions to institutionalization radically changed the face of early Christianity; no longer were independent groups of believers allowed self-autonomy. Their beliefs and practices were dictated by outside groups and individuals.

 A second major factor contributing to the standardization of Christian practice is the churches’ self-understanding of its own age. It was no longer the case that congregants expected the return of Jesus within one generation; that first generation had passed. The churches can now look back at their own history, an action which may have caused some to look forward toward the future. The important people of the previous century then became heroes of the faith, and their teachings became an authoritative rule of belief and practice.[8]

It is difficult to construct a clear picture of ecclesiastical leadership and practices in the second century. One difficulty in reconstructing an accurate picture of Christian practice during this period is the mistake of trying to portray liturgical development as progressing in a single line. Because of this error, many simply omit information that does not conform to their theory and include only what does.[9]From the primary sources, however, come pictures of differing leadership structures, ranging from highly authoritarian to seemingly loose and locally-defined, as well as a variety of congregational practices that also seem defined by each group.

            However, by the end of the second century, dedicated church buildings are recorded in archaeological accounts, and the threefold ministry of bishops, presbyters, and deacons has gained wider acceptance.[10]It is during this poorly-attested time that some of the most important changes in Christian thought and practice take place. The influence of Ignatius’ tri-level episcopal leadership structure and the patrons’ dedication of houses for exclusive congregational use changed the form and function of Christianity for the next two thousand years. It seems unlikely that drastic changes away from this model will occur unless 1) challenges similar to those that led to the second century churches’ institutionalization mount insurmountable problems for congregations today, or 2) we reevaluate the function of the Church and intentionally alter its form to accomplish the desired function.

Application: Form Follows Function

            When asked about the function of the Church today, people have widely varying ideas about what it is and what it should be. Having studied primary documents from the first and second centuries of the Church’s existence, I believe such diversity of views and practice is proper. With texts such as the letters of Clement, Ignatius, Pliny, and Justin in mind, and also understanding the effects institutional changes had on the form and practice of corporate Christianity, I would like to examine the areas of leadership, practices, and meeting locations to see 1) what effects institutionalization had on the Church, and 2) what changes we might make to affect the function of congregations today. If the adage that “form follows function” is correct, then by altering the form of our corporate gatherings, we can have a dramatic effect on how those gatherings function for individuals, congregations, and communities.

What Came Before: Institutional Changes to Affect Function

            In the second century, the Church was facing the strain of heresies and the disappointment of expected events not occurring (namely, the end of the world/return of Jesus). To confront such challenges, the Church adopted a hierarchical leadership structure and standardized its meeting location and practices. Through the influence of ardent enthusiasts of ecclesiastical hierarchy, the Church overwhelmingly moved from family-based forms of leadership to an authoritarian model of leadership. The effects of this change were numerous, but several details are evident: 1) power was consolidated into the hands of fewer and fewer individuals, with ultimate power residing with the bishop, which decreased the number of functional agents of congregations; 2) due to the elevation of authority, greater control was afforded against “heresies” in belief and practice; and 3) clearer distinctions between insiders and outsiders was available, mostly thanks to the bishop deciding  who to acknowledge and who not to acknowledge; 4) stability was established for the still-young Church, who was simultaneously looking to the past and trying to create a future in its theological and political uncertainty. The institutionalization of authoritarian leadership afforded these changes, helping the fledgling Church survive what it saw as its greatest threats. The move to designated meeting houses/church buildings had a number of effects of the function of congregations. It moved the Church from among the people, part of their every-day lives, to at a foreign, outside location. It created “holy” space, functionally different from the “secular” space of home and family. And it created a financial obligation that had never existed before. Corporate Christian practices institutionalized in line with the institutionalization of leadership structure and meeting location. This served mainly to reinforce the structure of authoritarian leadership and the need for a designated meeting location. Individuals were relieved of the ability to conduct feasts and the Eucharist, to baptize, and to lead prayers and give instruction, because the office now obtained those roles, and the proper location was now at the meeting house. What was once the ability to practice one’s faith freely and as one saw fit became ritual that was bound to limited numbers of leaders in limited numbers of places. Instead of the clergy and the building supporting the congregations, the congregation became responsible for supporting the clergy and the building. And that is still almost universally true in congregations today – the majority of funds and energy are used to support staff and grounds.

What May Come Next: Changes in Form to Affect Function

Today the Church does not face the same threats as those of the second century Church (or, at least, not in the same way). Consolidation of authority into the hands of a few has created spectator Christianity, rendering most congregants passive participants at best. “Heresy” is hardly something that can be battled today – people who differ in believe simply go to a neighboring congregation with similar beliefs or start a congregation of their own. In the same way, defining who is a “real” Christian and who is not is largely impossible; most religious designations today are self-assigned. Finally, the Church as a community is not concerned with establishing itself in the world. Most people now have heard of Christianity. So, if these threats are no longer of concern to the Church, we may reasonably change the form of our gatherings to accomplish different goals without danger from these threats.

If we were to change the leadership style of our gatherings to accomplish a new goal, the goal I would want to accomplish would be participation and involvement of the majority of congregants. This would seem to indicate the need for a diffusion of power – of authority being given away instead of consolidated. By empowering people to accomplish goals instead of limiting function to a few individuals, more good can be accomplished, more congregants can have influence, and the community can be more broadly impacted. To diffuse power, a non-authoritarian model of leadership would need to be employed. This leadership model could be a return to a family model as in the first and second centuries, an egalitarian or democratic model, an anarchist model, or some other form empowering people. What is most important is that people are individually empowered to be the Church, rather than attend the Church. While the idea of a building might seem to create legitimacy of religious function, it also creates obligation and by its very existence creates lasting monetary and energetic drains on the congregants. Compared to the early Church’s practice of supporting the hungry, the poor, and the widows in their cities, the idea of funding professional staff and elaborate buildings is distasteful to many. Use of money remains many people’s major objection to corporate Christianity. In addition, the spectator nature of corporate practice is increasingly unappealing in an age where interaction and active participation are in high demand. If our desire is generate active involvement and benefit our communities, our practices involving money and authority will necessarily change. To what degree will be up to individual congregations.

If we desire to be free of these resource drains on congregations, several options are available, using locations already present in our daily lives. Homes are always a viable option for congregational practice, although they functionally limit the number of participants (which may be seen as a benefit or a drawback). Many businesses with meeting rooms, such as restaurants, coffee shops, and businesses with limited hours of operation, like schools, theaters, and bars, are open to use by other groups, sometime without any fee or obligation. Personal businesses of congregants, likewise, make excellent meeting locations with little to no overhead for the congregation. Moving the Church out of the church building returns practice to daily life, removes some of the boundaries between the “sacred” and the “secular,” and potentially frees large quantities of donations to actually help people in need.

While these changes away from authoritarian clergy and designated church buildings may seem radical to some, but to others of us they seem not only logical but necessary. The Church did not always exist the way it mostly does now, and change is not always only good or bad. If we are facing different problems as the Church, it is reasonable that we should take steps to resolve these problems, especially if they arise out of our current form of corporate practice. It is true that all of the suggested changes are also flawed, and one day we will likely need to make changes to correct shortcomings of those forms. When that day comes, let us move away from the forms we have adopted and on to something better. What is most important, both now and then, is the function of the Church as a source of good and love in the world on behalf of God. If changing our form allows us to function better, we should, we must, change it. Why would we not want to do what we exist to do?

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century:

Part 1 – Introduction and Background 

Part 2 – Leadership Structures in Roman House Churches

Part 3 – Congregational Practices in Roman House Churches

Part 4 – Dedicated Buildings for Roman House Churches
Part 5 – Conclusions

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[1] Bradshaw, 193.

[2] Bradshaw, 192.

[3] Conzelmann, 116.

[4] Conzelmann, 123.

[5] Robinson, 113-114.

[6] Wright, 43.

[7] Lampe, 379.

[8] Conzelmann, 122-123.

[9] Bradshaw, 140.

[10] Bradshaw, 200-201.

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century, Part 4 – Dedicated Buildings for Roman House Churches

Off the Record: The Emergence of Designated Church Buildings

As we have seen, by the middle of the second century, house congregations possessed little uniformity in their leadership structures and no clear liturgy. If early house churches possessed no formal, uniform leadership structure or liturgy, how then were they organized? Roger Gehring rightly states that it is unlikely that early Christians would create a new social structure to use within their congregations.[1] Congregants would have instead looked to the culture of which they were a part to find appropriate models of functional organization and leadership. Many believe early house congregations adopted a natural, near-by structure that would have been obvious to them: Greco-Roman household structures of leadership.[2] By adopting the household structure of the Roman Empire, the early church would have secured two very important advantages: immediate understanding of their structure by members of their group and by the rest of ancient society, and a structure that made generational transition easy and natural.[3] Key to this understanding of household structure is the Roman idea of patronage. Patronage was a social function in which a person with greater financial resources or education funded or instructed a person or group in need of assistance. The person or group receiving support gained necessary assets to progress in society, and the patron gained honor, favor, and special privileges in the eyes of those they helped. In early Christianity there was equal opportunity for patronage among men and women, which means that before the rise of the authoritarian bishop, women likely had places of great honor and even leadership among early home congregations. Ultimately, however, the honor and leadership held by patrons was absorbed into the role of the bishop.[4] While outsiders may have viewed the second century churches as mystery schools or unregistered religions, the churches themselves likely drew on immediate structures of patronage and household for guidance. In any case, “the evidence is better served by the presumption of the probable existence of varied patters of leadership in different early Christian communities.”[5] So as with descriptions of practice, leadership functions likely varied from house church to house church before the tri-level episcopate gained momentum in the later second and early third centuries. But one source of inspiration and a natural leadership structure that was employed before then was that of the Roman concept of patronage.

  

So how did the house church move to dedicated church buildings during the second century? Primary sources from the era give no hints as to the transition, but archaeology does. No archaeological evidence for dwellings dedicated exclusively to Christian worship exists until the third century.[6] However, Branick states that around the middle of the second century, people began dedicating homes to be used specifically for church gatherings. These homes were buildings that were adapted from private residences and no longer used as such. 

  

By the third century, there were at least 20 titular churches in Rome that we know by name. Lampe describes what makes these new church buildings distinct from regular dwellings. Each of these designated church buildings had their own meeting place, clergy, baptistery, and place of burial. These titled congregations had inscriptions of the names of the host, many of whom probably still carried authority in the congregation as patrons, located above the entrance of the building as people entered. These homes served as the only dedicated meeting place for congregations in the time before Constantine.

  

While this would seem to indicate a higher profile and visibility within each city, this is not the case. Even after these titular church buildings began to be used in the middle of the second century, congregants were often so disconnected from other congregations that they didn’t even know the meeting locations for other groups.[7] This would indicate that, even with the visible changes and additions such as an inscription, baptistery, and burial grounds, these house/churches were not significantly different from surrounding structures so as to gain immediate recognition. It is this transition from meeting in houses to dedicated church buildings that seems to be the most natural end to the use of the term “house church.”[8]

Even as home and family centered structures are declining and the role of the bishop is rising, the house church of the first century is not forgotten. “Well into the late second century the memory of the house churches is kept alive in the apocryphal acts,” such as the Acts of Peter and Acts of Thomas. “These stories tell of the apostles meeting with prominent persons and turning their houses and in particular their dining rooms into places where that apostle would teach and where Christians would regularly assemble.”[9] So even as authoritarian power structures are created and implemented in the second century and the dedicated church building entered the scene, the common view among the people is still on record as the church existing and growing out of the home.

In the following segment, we will look at possible reasons for institutionalization in leadership and meeting place in the second century, and draw conclusions for what our findings mean for us today.

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century:

Part 1 – Introduction and Background 

Part 2 – Leadership Structures in Roman House Churches

Part 3 – Congregational Practices in Roman House Churches

Part 4 – Dedicated Buildings for Roman House Churches
Part 5 – Conclusions

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[1] Roger W. Gehring, House Church and Mission: The Importance of Household Structures in Early Christianity (Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 2004), 250.

[2] Bradshaw, 194.

[3] Gehring, 254-255.

[4] Osiek, MacDonald, and Tulloch, 219.

[5] Bradshaw, 194.

[6] Lampe, 366.

[7] Lampe, 360-365.

[8] Branick, 117, 129.

[9] Branick, 131.

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century, Part 3 – Congregational Practices in Roman House Churches

Whatever You Do: Diversity in Congregational Practices and Trends toward Uniformity

In our quest to understand the institutionalization of Christianity in the second century, comparisons of congregational practices can be a gauge of uniformity and standardization of practice. Clement of Rome, Ignatius of Antioch, Pliny the Younger, and Justin Martyr all discuss the congregational practices of the churches in the second century, both in what they think should be practiced and what was actually done by congregations at the time. According to these sources, a wide array of practices was normal for local congregations, revealing a definite lack of standardization by the middle of the second century.

  

Very Late 1^stCentury/Very Early 2^nd Century: Clement of Rome

While Clement mostly focuses on the importance of religious hierarchy, he also hints at a formal, orderly liturgy.

He has ordered that the offerings and the liturgical services take place not randomly or in a disorderly fashion but at appropriate times and hours.[1]

Clement instructs that “the liturgical services take place not randomly or in a disorderly fashion but at appropriate times and hours.” While we are given no information from Clement regarding what the Corinthians were doing to be so disorderly in the second century, plenty of discussion could be had on the chaos that was apparent from the letter of First Corinthians.[2]Even though we have no further instruction on Christian liturgy by Clement, he clearly has something in mind, but sees the Corinthian expulsion of bishops/presbyters as deserving his full attention.

Early 2^nd Century East: Ignatius of Antioch

In his final letters to the churches, Ignatius discusses several congregational practices and gives instructions for how they are to be carried out. Amidst the institution or reinforcement of a strict authoritarian leadership structure, Ignatius gives hints about corporate practices in the second century. To the Smyrnians, Ignatius says:

Without the bishop’s permission [the church] is not allowed to baptize or to hold an agape, but whatever he approves is also pleasing to God.[3]

In this passage from Ignatius exists the only reference to the “agape” feast, and one of only two sources that mention a common meal that was shared by Christians gathering in homes in the second century. Excluding this reference and one by Pliny the Younger, only the Eucharist practice of bread and wine will be mentioned in primary sources from the second century, not the first century practice of a common meal. It appears, then, that at this point the agape feast or common meal was a common practice at the beginning of the second century (as both Ignatius and Pliny write at the turn of the second century), and over the course of the century the Eucharist becoming the most prominent aspect of the feast and eventually replaces the feast entirely. Ignatius highlights the importance of the Eucharist in his letter to the Philadelphians:

Take care, then, to participate in the one Eucharist, for there is only one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ, and only one cup to unite us with his blood, and one altar, just as there is one bishop with the presbyterate and the deacons, my fellow servants.[4]

            In addition to food practices, Ignatius highlights several important details about meeting times and days. In his letter to the Ephesians, Ignatius admonishes them to

Make an effort, then, to gather more frequently in order to thank God and give praise. For when you gather often, Satan’s powers are overthrown, and his destructive work is destroyed by the unity of your faith.[5]

Once, Christians met in homes to share meals on many days during the week; in Ignatius’ view, they should return to such a practice of meeting often. Such a practice has two results: Satan’s power and works are rendered impotent and the church is unified. In his letter to the Magnesians, Ignatius discusses the preferred day of the week for congregational celebration and meeting:

If, therefore, those who lived in the former order of things have come to a new hope, no longer observing the Sabbath but the Lord’s Day…[6]

Here Ignatius highlights the importance of meeting together on Sunday instead of Saturday. Such instruction may be hints at some of Ignatius’ opponents within this congregation, namely Judaizers, or perhaps simply Christians who converted from Judaism. Regardless of who is being discussed and why, the importance and prominence of Sunday as the primary day of Christian ritual practice is attested to as early as the turn of the second century.

Early 2^nd Century: Pliny the Younger

Pliny’s letter to Trajan is also of interest regarding second century Christian practices.

They also declare that the substance of their guilt and error amounted to no more than this: they customarily gathered before dawn on a fixed day to sing in alternation a hymn to Christ as if to a god, and they bound themselves by an oath, not in a criminal conspiracy, but to refrain from robbery, theft, or adultery, from breaking their word, form reneging on a deposit. After this they usually dispersed, reassembling later on in order to take food of a common and harmless kind. And so I believed that it was all the more necessary to seek the truth from two female slaves, who are called ‘ministers,’ doing so by means of torture. I found nothing except a degenerate, excessive superstition.[7]

It is notable that these early Christians’ custom is to meet before dawn for liturgical practices, returning later for food. This account aligns well with earlier accounts of Christian believers gathering often, usually before dawn, and also for sharing a common meal. While it is possible that the “food of a common and harmless kind” refers only to the Eucharistic elements of bread and wine, it seems unlikely and unnecessary for the assembly to come back together later to practice the Eucharist. It seems much more likely that a large, common meal would not be shared before dawn, but instead would take place later in the day.

In addition to food practices, Pliny highlights two other practices of these early second century Christians: singing hymns and taking oaths. Hymn singing in particular is well attested in the first century church as a common practice. The reference to oaths may have been a notable practice for these believers, or it could have been a result of specific interrogation questions asked by Pliny. If it is the former, this is would be a significant attestation to a different liturgical practice in the early church. If it is merely the result of direct questioning about the danger of this secret Christian sect to Roman society, it merely illuminates that the second century church did not view itself as a threat to the Empire, at least under coercion.

Pliny interestingly calls these Christian practices “superstition.” Bradshaw discusses the use of this word by Romans, saying that this word was often used for an ethical debating society that had no ritual. In other cases, this word was reserved for a disliked ritual system. If Pliny had looked with favor upon the Christians, he would have instead used the word religio.[8]So, either Pliny did not recognize prayers and oaths as proper religious ritual, or he just didn’t like the Christians’ rituals. What is clearly understood by Pliny’s use of the word “superstition” is his dislike and contempt for the early Christian faith as seen in Asia Minor.

155 C.E.: Justin Martyr

            In Justin’s account of the congregation in his Apology, several practices are highlighted:

But after we have washed those who have believed and have joined us, we bring them to where those who are called brethren have assembled. In this way we may offer prayer in common both for ourselves and for those who have received illumination and for people everywhere…When the prayers have concluded, we greet one another with a kiss. Then bread and a cup containing water and wine are brought to him who presides over the assembly. He takes these and then gives praise…And after the presider has celebrated the thanksgiving and all the people have given their consent, those whom we call deacons give to each of those present a portion of the Eucharistic bread and wine and water and take the same to those who are absent.”

“And on the day that is called Sunday all who live in the cities or in rural areas gather together in one place, and the memoirs of the apostles and the writings of the prophets are read for as long as time allows…the president verbally instructs and exhorts us…Then all stand up together and offer prayers…bread is brought forward together with the wine and water…all share in the Eucharist…those who are well-to-do and willing give as they choose…the collection is then deposited with the presider who uses it on behalf of orphans, widows, and those who are needy…But Sunday is the day on which we hold our common assembly since this day is the first day on which God, changing darkness and matter, created the world; it was on this very day that Jesus Christ our Savior rose from the dead.”[9]

            Like Ignatius, Justin mentions an assembly characterized by the Eucharist of bread and wine, and the importance and significance of meeting on Sundays.  In addition, he notes that the assembled believers pray and greet each other with a kiss. These practices are not well attested in other second century sources, and once again indicate a fairly wide range of normal practices for the churches in the second century. Also of note is the congregation’s use of money: the wealthy make donations for distribution to the poor. By way of formal instruction, the presider reads authoritative writings and instructions the congregation. Justin, more than the other three second century primary sources, portrays a wide range of practices within second century Christian gatherings.

Summarizing Second Century Congregational Practices

Regarding congregational practice, Ignatius highlights gathering frequently, the importance of gathering on Sunday, and the food practices of the agape feast and the Eucharist. Likewise, Pliny highlights gathering early and later in the day, with the early meeting for singing and making oaths toward righteous living. Later in the day, the common meal is highlighted, without directly mentioning the Eucharist or its elements. Clement hints at a proper liturgy, but Justin makes no such hints. Justin Martyr’s accounts certainly leave open the possibility that there was a loose collection of Christian house churches with very different practices. What is perhaps most astounding is the amount of detail that Justin leaves out, like the time of day, specific prayers and their numbers, the amount of participation by those in attendance, and whether or not the Eucharist practice still included a full meal.[10]

Discussion of congregational practices by these second century sources is quite varied. The authoritarian bishops focus little on actual practices. Their primary message is that there is a correct procedure to follow and correct authority under which to practice. Justin and Pliny highlight specific practices much more, including prayer, meals, reading and instruction, donations, and care for the poor. Among all of these authors, though, a normal range of activities is presented in which home congregations typically participated, with primary distinctions being in who was doing the reporting: a person of power and authority or one without such congregational influence.

Next, we will look at the transition second century congregations made from meeting in people’s homes to meeting in designated buildings.

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century:

Part 1 – Introduction and Background 

Part 2 – Leadership Structures in Roman House Churches

Part 3 – Congregational Practices in Roman House Churches

Part 4 – Dedicated Buildings for Roman House Churches
Part 5 – Conclusions

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[1] Clement of Rome, Letter to the Corinthians, vs. 40, as quoted by Johnson, 44.

[2] See  this article for further discussion on the chaotic and disorderly Corinthian churches in the first century: http://www.alivereligion.com/2012/05/christian-gatherings-in-first-century.html

[3] Ignatius of Antioch, To the Smyrnians, vs 8, as quoted by Johnson, 51.

[4] Ignatius of Antioch, To the Philadelphians, vs 6, as quoted by Johnson, 50-51.

[5] Ignatius of Antioch, To the Ephesians, vs 8, as quoted by Johnson, 49.

[6] Ignatius of Antioch, To the Megnesians, vs 9, as quoted by Johnson, 50.

[7] Pliny the Younger, Letter from Pliny the Younger to Trajan the Emperor, as quoted by Johnson, 84-85.

[8] Bradshaw, 213-214.

[9] Justin Martyr, Apology 1, vv. 65 & 67, as quoted by Johnson, 68-69.

[10] Bradshaw, 98-99.

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century, Part 2 – Leadership Structures in Roman House Churches

What is the Church? Standardizing a Leadership Structure

            In beginning to piece together the motivations for institutionalization of Christianity in the second century, understanding ecclesiastical leadership structures is of great importance.  Clement of Rome, Ignatius of Antioch, Pliny the Younger, and Justin Martyr all discuss the leadership of the churches in the second century, both in what they think it should be like and in how it actually functioned at the time. Despite some rather demanding claims by some of these authors, ecclesiastical leadership in the second century was hardly standardized, but was making definite moves toward that end.

Very Late 1^stCentury/Very Early 2^nd Century: Clement of Rome

            Clement of Rome was the fourth bishop of Rome, and Peter’s third successor. Clement writes a letter to the Christians in Corinth, on the occasion that they were ejecting appointed leaders from office. Clement writes to the Corinthian Christians, asking them to stop deposing their leaders. Due to the occasion for writing, Clement primarily addresses our area of interest regarding congregational leadership.

“There was nothing novel here because much earlier Scripture somewhere spoke of bishops and deacons, ‘I will establish their bishops in righteousness and their deacons in faith.’…The apostles also knew, through our Lord Jesus Christ, that there should be no dispute concerning the ministry of the bishop…blessed are presbyters who have finished their journey and whose life has come to a fruitful and perfect end.”[1]

            At first glance, Clement’s comments seem rather bland and uninteresting to our discussion. Upon a second glance, though, particularly at verse 44, a seeming discrepancy arises: Clement refers to bishops and presbyters interchangeably. Whether or not there was anything that distinguished the two terms or offices in the earliest centuries, there is certainly no indication of difference by Clement. [2]Clement instead uses two terms for the same office, which, as we shall see shortly, is a strong testimony against Ignatius’ insistence that the three-level system of leadership is in place “throughout the whole world.” For our purposes, this is clear evidence that standardization in early Christian leadership had not yet occurred.[3]Instead, leaders would have been wealthier members of the church with homes large enough to accommodate the gatherings, a system commonly identified as patronage.[4]We will discuss this in more detail later.

Early 2^nd Century: Ignatius of Antioch

            Ignatius was either the second or third bishop of Antioch, depending on the source. On his way to stand trial in Rome, Ignatius wrote seven letters, conventionally dated to the beginning of the second century,[5]encouraging congregations and providing instruction for Christian life and congregational practice.[6]Most of Ignatius’ instruction centers on the form of leadership he sees as required in each home congregation.

Ignatius makes bold claims about the authority of the church: it lies solely in the hands of the bishop. In his final letter to the churches in Ephesus, Ignatius says that the bishops are to Jesus Christ as Jesus Christ is to the Father, and even goes so far as to equate the bishop with Jesus himself:

For Jesus Christ, our inseparable life, is the thought of the Father, just as the bishops, appointed throughout the whole world, are in the thought of Jesus Christ… And so it is clear that we are to look upon the bishop as if he were the Lord himself.[7]

Such a comparison leaves little doubt as to the importance of the bishop in the mind of Ignatius. With these words, Ignatius conflates the office of bishop with the authority of God himself, and consequently inflates the importance of the letters he (the bishop of Antioch) is writing to the churches.

            In his final letter to the Magnesians, Ignatius addresses a congregation with an apparently-assigned young bishop, and commends them for their submission to him. He says their submission is wise, and once again equates the bishop with both Jesus and God:

It is fitting that you not take advantage of your bishop’s youthful age but, because of the power of God the Father, show him all respect. I know, in fact, that your holy presbyters have not taken advantage of his youthfulness, but like those who are wise in God, they yield to him, not to him but to the Father of Jesus Christ who is the bishop of all…I implore you, attempt to do everything in harmony with God and under the presidency of the bishop who takes the place of God, the presbyters taking the place of the council of the apostles, and the deacons, who are so dear to me, being entrusted with the ministry of Jesus Christ who before time was with the Father and who in these last days has appeared… Just as the Lord did nothing, whether by himself or by his apostles apart from the Father with whom he is one, so neither are you to do anything without the bishop and the presbyters. Do not try to convince yourselves that what you do on your own is acceptable.[8]

Two other points of interest arise in this letter: the description of the three-fold leadership structure of bishop, presbyters (elders), and deacons; and the command that the congregations not “do anything without the bishop and the presbyters.” First, regarding Ignatius’ tripartite leadership structure, this standardized structure appears throughout Ignatius’ writing, and is always defined as bishop (singular), presbyters (plural), and deacons (plural). Taking Ignatius’ writing alone, it would appear that a standardized leadership structure was already in place at the beginning of the second century. As we have seen from Clement’s writing, however, this is not the case. Next, regarding Ignatius’ orders about church practices in relation to the bishop and presbyters, this is an astounding and seemingly-unprecedented command. There is no evidence up to this point that such a rigid, authority-focused view of practice was in place. In fact, as we move to other primary sources from this time, it will become evident that such authority-focused practice was the norm even during the second century.

            In his letter to the Trallians, Ignatius again proposes the tri-level authority structure, and once again states that any action taken without such a structure is forbidden.

And so it is necessary – as is your present practice – to do nothing without the bishop. Also submit yourselves to the presbyterate as if to the apostles… Likewise, let all respect the deacons as we would Jesus Christ; also the bishop who is the image of the Father, and the presbyters like God’s council and like the assembly of the apostles; without these we cannot speak of the Church.[9]

Without this episcopal leadership structure, Ignatius says there can be no church at all. This has interesting implications regarding Ignatius’ view of the Church. Regardless of where congregations gather, they are not recognized as legitimate congregations without the oversight and direct operation of the bishop. Rather than enabling the Church to expand, such a view and requirement serves rather to restrict the growth of the Church, centralizing its authority to the now-elite bishops.

            In his final letter to the Smyrnians, Ignatius repeats his tripartite leadership structure, again equating them with Jesus, the apostles, and now God’s law. Ignatius repeats his command to do nothing without the bishop’s oversight, and takes his requirement a step further: that wherever the bishop appears, the congregation is to follow appear.

All of you are to follow the bishop just as Jesus Christ follows his Father, and you are to follow the presbyterate as you would the apostles; regarding the deacons, respect them as you would God’s law. Let no one do anything apart from the bishop which pertains to the Church. May there be only one legitimate Eucharist, namely, that done under the bishop or whomever the bishop has committed it. Wherever the bishop appears, there the people are to be; just as where Christ Jesus is, there is the catholic Church. Without the bishop’s permission it is not allowed to baptize or to hold an agape, but whatever he approves is also pleasing to God.[10]

Again, these commands say much about how Ignatius views the Church and his understanding of its function. The Church, according to Ignatius, exists only where the bishop appears. In fact, wherever the bishop appears, the people are told to assemble. Such an instruction goes beyond merely giving oversight to the group; the group, in Ignatius’ view, serves the bishop. In addition, several functions of each congregation, including baptism, the Eucharist, and the communal feast/agape, are put under the direct control of the bishop. Also, in a letter to Polycarp of Smyrna, an individual in the same congregation to which the previous instructions were sent, Ignatius includes one more rite now under the direction of the bishop:

It is also proper that men and women who marry do so with the consent of the bishop so that their marriage takes place according to the Lord and not according to passion.[11]

In addition to such strict guidelines surrounding the episcopal hierarchy, Ignatius mentions several practices that fall under the jurisdiction of the bishop: the Eucharist, baptism, the “agape,” and marriage. Whereas, in the previous century, the Eucharist and/or agape feasts were functions of the home congregations, now they are under the direct control of the bishop. In addition, the practice of baptism has been removed from the hands of the people and placed in those of the bishop. What were once normal social functions involving people of common faith now become controlled, authority-centered rites that are overseen by a three-level hierarchy. Hanz Conzelmann defends Ignatius, stating that the different levels of the hierarchy of episcopal leadership are “most closely bound up with soteriology, the doctrine of the Spirit, the doctrine of the sacraments, and the idea of the church, and is justified thereby,”[12]but upon examination of Ignatius’ letters, this is not the case. Rather, the work of the Spirit, the sacraments, and the idea of the church are restricted to these offices, rather than having their source in them.

Ignatius, then, serves as the earliest and loudest voice promoting this tri-level hierarchical leadership of bishop, presbyters, and deacons. So, does the fact that Ignatius is the first proponent of such a system mean that it was, by the turn of the second century, new? On the contrary, Robinson purports that, due to the fact that Ignatius’ letters do not contain instructions for these offices or define their roles, the congregations are in fact already accustomed to them and understand their function. Instead, “Ignatius is defining the church (those submitting to the bishop and presbytery); he is not defining the bishop, nor does it seem necessary for him to do so.”[13]Not everyone agrees, however. Bradshaw views Ignatius’ repeated insistence on obedience to the bishop as an indication that such an episcopal leadership structure was not universally and unquestioningly accepted.[14]Whatever the case about its novelty or acceptance, Ignatius believes this tripartite leadership structure to be the absolute rule and definition for the church. There is no room for any group that does not submit to the authority of the bishop.[15]His word, however, is hardly the final one on the subject.

Early 2^nd Century: Pliny the Younger

In Pliny’s letter to the emperor Trajan, we have a unique voice on record regarding second century Christian leadership. Pliny was a Roman senator sent to Asia Minor to help reform the local government. Pliny speaks of Christians as an outsider to their beliefs and practices, offering an uncommon view to ancient Christian practices in the second century. The following is an excerpt from a letter to the emperor asking for advice on how to deal with members of a “secret sect” – Christianity.[16]

They also declare that the substance of their guilt and error amounted to no more than this: they customarily gathered before dawn on a fixed day to sing in alternation a hymn to Christ as if to a god, and they bound themselves by an oath, not in a criminal conspiracy, but to refrain from robbery, theft, or adultery, from breaking their word, from reneging on a deposit. After this they usually dispersed, reassembling later on in order to take food of a common and harmless kind. And so I believed that it was all the more necessary to seek the truth from two female slaves, who are called ‘ministers,’ doing so by means of torture. I found nothing except a degenerate, excessive superstition.[17]

            Here Pliny offers some interesting insight into early second century practice. Perhaps of most interest is the status of the persons Pliny is interrogating. He identifies them as female slaves, and then notes that they are called “ministers.” The term “ministers” was common in the first century, used to describe persons who are active in the early house churches, so it is no surprise that it is used at the beginning of the second century. What is of note is that the bearers of this description are female slaves – a clear upset of the prevailing social order of male supremacy and the status of slaves in the Roman Empire.[18]Certainly in comparison with either Clement’s dual hierarchy of bishops/presbyters and deacons or Ignatius’ tri-level hierarchy of bishop, presbyters, and deacons, a snapshot of female slaves as leaders is shocking. Most certainly not viewed as authoritative appointees in the same way as the bishops likely were, these women leaders were viewed as authoritative enough by the Roman senator to be able to provide accurate information about the form and function of the secret sect, likely due to their extreme insider position and knowledge.  Pliny’s account offers major conflicting data regarding a standardized leadership structure in the early second century. It may have been in practice somewhere, but it wasn’t in practice everywhere.

155 C.E.: Justin Martyr

Justin Martyr was a second century Christian apologist. He was a teacher of philosophy who converted to Christianity in C.E. 130. After his conversion, he established a school of Christian philosophy and was eventually beheaded for refusing to participate in Roman sacrifice. He was a prolific writer, with his Apologycontaining 68 chapters.[19]Several passages of the Apology are of interest to second century Christian leadership, and are excerpted below:

But after we have washed those who have believed and have joined us, we bring them to where those who are called brethren have assembled. In this way we may offer prayer in common both for ourselves and for those who have received illumination and for people everywhere…When the prayers have concluded, we greet one another with a kiss. Then bread and a cup containing water and wine are brought to him who presides over the assembly. He takes these and then gives praise…And after the presider has celebrated the thanksgiving and all the people have given their consent, those whom we call deacons give to each of those present a portion of the Eucharistic bread and wine and water and take the same to those who are absent.”

“And on the day that is called Sunday all who live in the cities or in rural areas gather together in one place, and the memoirs of the apostles and the writings of the prophets are read for as long as time allows…the president verbally instructs and exhorts us…Then all stand up together and offer prayers…bread is brought forward together with the wine and water…all share in the Eucharist…those who are well-to-do and willing give as they choose…the collection is then deposited with the presider who uses it on behalf of orphans, widows, and those who are needy…But Sunday is the day on which we hold our common assembly since this day is the first day on which God, changing darkness and matter, created the world; it was on this very day that Jesus Christ our Savior rose from the dead.”[20]

In these passages there is no note of the tri-level structure of leadership so insisted on by Ignatius. Instead, Justin mentions that a president or presider instructs the assembly from their sacred writings. Paul Bradshaw notes that two problems arise in interpreting Justin Martyr’s accounts of second century church practice: 1) this may be an account of a specific group’s practice, or it may be a generic type of model that many congregations followed, and 2) since Justin’s audience is not Christian, we have no idea how much information he left out simply because his audience wouldn’t have cared or understood the information.[21]This identification of a “president,” then, is prone to interpretation issues. While deacons are clearly addressed, it is completely possible that the home congregations Justin observed had no functioning bishops and/or presbyters. It is also possible that Justin simply did not use either of these terms as they might not have made sense to his non-Christian audience.

            Some may agree with this later interpretation as a way of making sense of seemingly conflicting information. However, in discussing this passage from Justin Martyr, Peter Lampe says that to equate the presider of the liturgy with a monarchical Roman bishop “would be to read into the passage things that are not there.”[22]He continues by saying that this group of Justin’s conducts its own worship services, with no indication that there is any form of hierarchical structure supervising each group. Instead, each group has its own officers, including a presider, a lector, and deacons.[23]This seems consistent with Pliny the Younger and Clement of Rome’s attestation to varying styles of leadership and practice within second century house churches. At this point in the church’s development, it makes more sense to refer to them as “churches” instead of “the church.”

Summarizing Second Century Leadership

Ignatius gives the earliest and most clearly defined reference to the three-part episcopal structure.[24]He apparently assumes this system is universally understood, although perhaps not universally practiced by every home congregation. On the other hand, Pliny refers to two “ministers” he is interrogating, indicating that women may have had a large role in the life of the early second century churches. In support of this, Osiek, MacDonald, and Tulloch note that Ignatius’ letters mention several prominent women who likely provided patronage for him and would likely be hosts of house churches.[25]While this may have been the case in Ignatius’ congregations, his focus is nonetheless on the primacy of the bishop. Clement and Justin speak of varied styles of leadership, ranging from Clement’s dual model of bishops/presbyters and deacons to Justin’s account of a presider and deacons. Clement speaks as one with authority addressing those he believes under his influence or control, with clear instructions as to how the congregation in Corinth is to submit to their leaders’ authority. Justin, though, simply reports what he sees taking place. When these four accounts are seen side by side, it is evident that even by the middle of the second century a universal rule of congregational order and authority has not been enforced, if it has even been created.

It is interesting to note that each of these sources discuss some kind of role or leadership function. On the less-authoritarian end would be Pliny’s mention of “ministers” and Justin Martyr’s description of a presider and deacons. Neither Pliny nor Justin appear to be in positions of Christian leadership, so perhaps their de-emphasis on title and authority reflects their station. Moving up toward more authoritarian models is Clement, with his dual structure of bishop(s)/presbyter(s) and deacons, followed by the most authoritarian structure of Ignatius’ trinity of bishop, presbyters, and deacons. Both of these men serve as bishops, which could contribute to their interest in leadership and in increasing its/their own authority. Wright notes, then, that at the beginning of the second century, there were at least two different authoritarian views of ecclesiastical leadership. Clement bases the authority of the presbyters/bishops on apostolic succession and supports a college of bishops. Ignatius, on the other hand, repeatedly and emphatically teaches that power should rest in the hands of one single bishop. His basis of enforcing this model is the spiritual authority of the bishop himself, rather than apostolic succession.[26]So, while Ignatius is clearly the most demanding in terms of authoritarian leadership, we have snapshots of congregations where such a structure has not yet been implemented.

Next, we will look at records of second century congregational practices as a measuring rod of the level of institutionalization that was present at the time.

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century:

Part 1 – Introduction and Background 

Part 2 – Leadership Structures in Roman House Churches

Part 3 – Congregational Practices in Roman House Churches

Part 4 – Dedicated Buildings for Roman House Churches
Part 5 – Conclusions

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[1] Clement of Rome, Letter to the Corinthians, vv 42, & 44, as quoted by Johnson, 44.

[2] Robert Roy Wright, The Church’s First Thousand Years (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1960), 41. [2]Paul F. Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship: Sources and Methods for the Study of Early Liturgy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 199, supports this view.

[3] Bradshaw, 198-199.

[4] Bradshaw, 194.

[5] Bradshaw, 200.

[6] Lawrence J Johnson, Worship in the Early Church: An Anthology of Historical Sources(Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2009), 46.

[7] Ignatius of Antioch, To the Ephesians, vv. 3 & 6, as quoted by Johnson, 48.

[8] Ignatius of Antioch, To the Magnesians, vv. 3, 6, &7, as quoted by Johnson, 49-50.

[9] Ignatius of Antioch, To the Trallians, vv. 2 & 3, as quoted by Johnson, 50.

[10] Ignatius of Antioch, To the Smyrnians, vs 8, as quoted by Johnson, 51.

[11] Ignatius of Antioch, To Polycarp of Smyrna, vs 5, as quoted by Johnson, 51.

[12] Conzelmann, 116.

[13] Thomas A. Robinson, Ignatius of Antioch and the Parting of the Ways: Early Jewish-Christian Relations (Peabody: Hendrickson Publishers, 2009), 101-102.

[14] Bradshaw, 200.

[15] Vincent P. Branick, The House Church in the Writings of Paul (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1989), 130-131.

[16] Johnson, 83.

[17] Pliny the Younger, Letter from Pliny the Younger to Trajan the Emperor, as quoted by Johnson, 84-85.

[18] For helpful discussion on male social supremacy and the role of slaves in the Roman Empire, see The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity by Peter Brown and Slavery in Early Christianity by Jennifer Glancy.

[19] Johnson, 65-66.

[20] Justin Martyr, Apology 1, vv. 65 & 67, as quoted by Johnson, 68-69.

[21] Bradshaw, 98-99.

[22] Lampe, 365.

[23] Lampe, 377.

[24] Robinson, 99. Bradshaw, 200, says almost exactly the same thing.

[25] Carolyn Osiek, Margaret Y. MacDonald, and Janet H. Tulloch, A Woman’s Place: House Churches in Earliest Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2006), 214.

[26] Wright, 42.

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century, Part 1 – Introduction

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century: 

Institutionalization in Leadership, Practices, and Location in the Congregations of the Roman Empire

Many of proponents of modern house churches who want to “go back” to first century Christianity bemoan the institutionalization of Christianity, saying that such institutionalization is wrong and corrupts its function. Countering this claim, others believe that standardization was necessary to face the challenges of heresy and growth as the church spread throughout the Roman Empire. In order to better understand the transition the early church went through from sect to church, from movement to institution, the key question we must ask is, “How and why did the first century Christian sect institutionalize in the second century?” One of the primary areas of institutionalization that is available for comparison in second century primary documents is texts revealing information about leadership structures of congregations. In addition, a comparison of congregational practices among second century congregations can be used to identify standardization in practices and liturgy. In examining leadership structures and corporate practices, our investigation will reveal primary leaders who pushed toward institutionalization. In addition, archaeological records reveal that it is during this period that the first designated church buildings appeared. A brief look at how and why this change occurred will also yield helpful information about the major shifts toward institutionalization in the second century. Second century sources reveal that the growing diversity of Christian theologies and the increasing age of the church pushed the individually crafted house churches to standardize. Most churches standardized by adopting Ignatius’ three-fold leadership structure and by relying on the patronage of wealthy Christians for designated meeting facilities which further standardized Christian corporate practices. 

While many second century documents offer little explicit discussion of institutionalization, the letters of Clement of Rome, Ingatius of Antioch, Pliny the Younger, and Justin Martyr do.[1]  Each of these sources not only offers a unique perspective on Christianity during the second century, but also offers explicit details about their leadership structures and corporate practices. By examining these four authors across several key documents, a picture of Christian practice and moves toward institutionalization can be clearly seen.

Setting the Scene: Christian Worship in the First Century

Using well-attested first-century sources like 1 Corinthians and the Didache, several firm statements can be made about the Christian congregations before the turn of the century. In Corinth, corporate Christian gatherings included a full meal and the corporate expression and use of spiritual gifts. Up to the writing of 1 Corinthians, there was no formal leadership structure. Paul viewed the community as the body of Christ, with each member performing its necessary and important function. From the Didache, we can see that corporate practices include formalized procedures for baptisms, weekly fasts, daily prayers, and what appear to be Eucharistic rights, either centered on a full meal, the Eucharistic elements of bread and wine, or both. In addition, a formal leadership structure appears to be replacing the initial structures of charismatic leadership. People are encouraged to accept this elected or appointed leadership, with no mention as to whether it is superior or inferior to charismatic leadership.[2]

Drawing on the book of Romans as a source, Peter Lampe counts five different Christian groups meeting within the city. He believes each group conducted worship services on its own, without connection to any other group. Such groups met in a house or apartment without a central meeting location.[3] This agrees with common thought regarding first century Christianity: that early Christian communities met in homes and had no set liturgy, hierarchy, or charter. Each group operated as its own distinct, fully-autonomous community responsible for its own leadership and practice.[4]

How and why these groups moved toward standardized leadership structures, practices, and meeting locations in the second century is the subject of our investigation, and it is to these subjects which we will now turn. 

Christian Gatherings in the Second Century:

Part 1 – Introduction and Background 

Part 2 – Leadership Structures in Roman House Churches

Part 3 – Congregational Practices in Roman House Churches

Part 4 – Dedicated Buildings for Roman House Churches
Part 5 – Conclusions

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[1] While Christian sources from the second century abound, many prove unfruitful for our purposes, including The Epistle of the Apostles, the Acts of John, the Acts of Paul, the Acts of Peter, the Letter of Barnabas, and the writings of Irenaeus of Lyons, Melito of Sardis, Aristides of Athens, and Theophilus of Antioch. These sources do shed light on Christian theology at the time, but offer no help in reconstructing Christian leadership or practices.

[2] These conclusions come from an examination of first century corporate Christianity using the New Testament book of 1^st Corinthians and the Didache as primary sources. This paper can be found online at http://www.alivereligion.com/2012/05/christian-gatherings-in-first-century.html.

[3] Peter Lampe, From Paul to Valentinus: Christians at Rome in the Frist Two Centuries (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 359-360.

[4] Hans Conzelmann, History of Primitive Christianity (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1973), 48.

Is Christianity Growing Up?

People love stories. People especially love stories about free-wheeling adventure-seekers who save the day and ride off into the sunset. People love stories about emotional and intellectual adolescents.

In the introduction to Speaker for the Dead, Orson Scott Card talks about his character development in the Ender’s series. He states that there are three types of heroes or stories: the Child, the Adolescent, and the Adult. Upon reading these descriptions, I immediately thought of corporate Christian practice and followers of Jesus. And I believe, as we put away childish things, not only will we as followers of Jesus act and think differently, our corporate gatherings will function and feel differently as well.

The Child

“The child phase…is the time of complete dependence on others to create our identity and our worldview. Little children gladly accept even the strangest stories that others tell them, because they lack either the context or the confidence to doubt. They go along because they don’t know how to be alone, either physically or intellectually” (Orson Scott Card, Speaker for the Dead (Tom Doherty Associates: New York, 1986), xvi).

This, I think, is the phase in which most Christian congregations and Christians function. As new Christians, most people know almost nothing about the history of Christianity or the Bible or even who Jesus was and what he taught. They rightly rely on others, often paid clergy, to “help create [their] identity and worldview.”

Most congregational practice is set up to function to accommodate the child-like Christian. Few people, or only one person, teach everyone else, with little-to-no room for questions or interaction. The clergy member reveals the truth from God, and everyone else is left to nod in agreement (or find another congregation). Everything, from the setup of the room, to the order of service, to the elements of the service reinforce this dependency function. Participants are simply spectators. And this is not bad for those who are still infantile in their faith. For a while, they need instruction, and routines to practice, and “normalcy.”

The Adolescent

“Gradually, however, this dependency breaks down – and children catch the first glimmers of a world that is different from the one they thought they lived in[;] they break away the last vestiges of adult control themselves, much as a baby bird breaks free of the last fragments of the egg. The [adolescent] hero is unconnected. He belongs to no community; he is wandering from place to place, doing good (as he sees it), but then moving on. This is the life of the adolescent, full of passion, intensity, magic, and infinite possibility; but lacking responsibility, rarely expecting to have to stay and bear the consequences of error. Everything is played at twice the speed and twice the volume in the adolescent – the romantic – life” (Card, xvi-xvii).

This is, I think, where people take diverging paths in their religious life. Some who enter this phase abandon their faith or their attempts to make sense of it. Others leave the organized Church, unhappy with being alone but more unhappy with the childish institution. I have met a lot of people in this “sick-of-the-Church” mindset. I have been that person, as well. And I can tell you these people don’t start off as rebels seeking to be alone – they are genuinely torn by their decision to leave the nest and strike out on their own.

Some people stay in this category, either by choice or because they just get used to it. It’s fun and often easy to be a disconnected rebel, doing whatever one wants. Just like those that remain the perpetual Christian Child, Christian Adolescents have no ritual obligations and no authority (other than God). This, too, is a good phase, for those that need to realize their independence and personal freedom.

The Adult

“Only when the loneliness becomes unbearable do adolescents root themselves, or try to root themselves. It may or may not be in the community of their childhood, and it may or may not be their childhood identity and connections that they resume upon entering adulthood. And, in fact, many fail at adulthood and constantly reach backward for the freedom and passion of adolescence. But those who achieve it are the ones who create civilization…the most important stories are the ones that teach us how to be civilized: the stories about children and adults, about responsibility and dependency” (Card, xvii).

Beyond infantile institutions and renegade believers is another organization/association altogether. It is one in which new believers are welcomed and assisted, but staying an infant is not the goal. The structure of such a body is to progress the child through adolescence and into adulthood. As adult followers of Jesus, people recognize their own authority and agency as free believers in Jesus, but they also recognize that they can’t function (or can’t function best) on their own. Perhaps in this group there are no rigid institutions, but rather spontaneity and a dynamic structure that allows people to function. Perhaps there are no ministries that must be supported without end, but only people who organize briefly to meet needs, moving on after the needs are met. Perhaps there is no formal leadership, but everyone functioning with the authority of one seeking to help another. Perhaps there is no order of service, but an understanding that we serve for the benefit of those we know and those we don’t yet know.

Perhaps this is the origin of the house church/simple church movement – people tired of the infantile institution of Christianity and wanting some other form of corporate practice. Often these groups become micro-institutions, complete with clergy, orders of service, and ritual practices that mirror typical institutional Christianity. Sometimes these groups become something else, something small and mobile that often flies by the radar of the Christian world at large.

I have never seen a group of adult Christians functioning in an adult corporate model. Maybe they aren’t out there yet, or maybe they’re just so few that no one knows about them.

But I would like to be a part of such a group. I want to function not in dependency or independency, but interdependency, serving alongside those seeking to make this world a better place by following the way of Jesus.

How can we make this new form of corporate Christian gathering?

What will we do?

What will be our purpose?

I’m ready for this talk. I hope you are, too.

Christian Gatherings in the First Century, Part 6

Conclusion: Practicing the First-Century Way

            Bradshaw makes an important point to those seeking to reconstruct first century corporate Christian practice from ancient documents:

It is dangerous to read any ancient source as though it was a verbatim account of a liturgical act. This is obviously so in the case of the brief allusions to Christian worship that crop up in writings dealing with some quite different topic. We cannot there expect the authors to be describing in exact and full detail all the aspects of the custom to which they are referring, for they are naturally only choosing to mention what is germane to the point they are making.[1]

What, then, can we ever know about first century practice? We can learn some of what the earliest congregations did when they came together if we avoid some pitfalls in our reading. First, we need to be cautious about reading later practices back into the text.[2]Eisegesis is always an issue in interpretation, and never more so that in wanting to defend one’s own practices as “biblical.” We must move beyond the misunderstanding that our corporate practices must be supported by the biblical text. Just because some corporate Christian practices are not found in Scripture does not make them againstScripture. Second, we must be cautious in harmonizing liturgical texts. The fact remains that Christianity did not begin with a formula in mind. Christianity developed from within Judaism and spread to other communities, including those with predominantly non-Jewish peoples. Because of this, it is likely that some Jewish customs prevailed in some communities, while in other communities other customs developed or were adopted. There did not need to be a consistent pattern for how to “do church,” if such a concept as “doing church” ever crossed anyone’s mind.

            With those precautions in mind, what can we know about first century corporate Christian practice? In Corinth, the gathering includes a full meal and the corporate expression and use of spiritual gifts. For Paul, exactly how these practices of dining and gift-using were carried out was secondary to the result they produced: Paul wanted them to create equality rather than separate, and to be expressions of love rather than self-importance. Up to the writing of 1 Corinthians, there was no formal leadership structure. Paul viewed the community as the body of Christ, with each member performing its necessary and important function.

            By comparison, the Didache reveals corporate practices that include formalized procedures for baptisms, weekly fasts, daily prayers, and what appear to be Eucharistic rights, either centered around a full meal, bread and wine, or both. A formal leadership structure appears to be replacing the charismatic leadership. People are encouraged to accept this elected or appointed leadership, with no mention as to whether it is superior or inferior to charismatic leadership. Even with all of these differences, however, the Didache still admonishes people in the way of love, stating that it is the way of life, and that the ethical teaching it provides is simply the means by which we may love.

            With two such disparate texts attesting to first century corporate practice, what can we conclude? First, that even in the first century, there is apparently no one “right” way to gather corporately as Christians. Even within the letter of 1 Corinthians, Paul never lays out the “right” way to practice; instead, he illuminates the right motive for practice, in both the meal and charismatic practice. Likewise in the Didache, while it appears practice is much more regulated and orderly, how practices like the meal and/or the Eucharist were carried out is still beyond our knowledge. Observing later traditions reveals that the Didache’s certainty regarding practice is not universal, and comparing it with 1 Corinthians also shows that our sources simply do not illustrate corporate practices quite the way we might expect and hope. Instead, we are left with uncertainty about exactly how to practice “like the early church.” What cannot be missed, though, is the motivation and results of our practice: if our corporate practices, however “first century,” create division and promote some members over others, they may be very much like the first century practices, but not as Paul and the author(s) of the Didache would have them to be. Instead of concern for what we do, they would advise we be concerned with why we do what we do, and what the results are. According Paul and the Didache, our specific practices are superficial and tertiary; what is primary and distinguishes Christians is a revolutionary social order of love. Love of others is the heart of the matter when considering corporate Christian practice. Logistics and organization and structure are simply the means by which love of others happens to be lived corporately.

The Complete “Christian Gatherings in the First Century” Series:

Part 1 – Introduction, Historical Context of Corinth, and Literary Context of 1 Corinthians

Part 2 – Detailed Analysis of 1 Cor 14:26ff

Part 3 – The Meal in 1 Cor 11:17ff

Part 4 – Leadership(?) in 1 Cor 12:27ff

Part 5 – An Extra-Canonical Source: The Didache

Part 6 – Conclusion

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[1] Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship, 15.

[2] Bradshaw lists several trends in the study of liturgy in the New Testament as well as their flaws, some of which I highlight here. See Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship, 47-72.

Christian Gatherings in the First Century, Part 5

An Extra-Canonical Source: The Didache

            The Didache, or The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, is an extra-canonical document thought to be perhaps as old as the canonical Gospels themselves, compiled around the end of the first century.[1]What makes this document so interesting is that, after six sections regarding the two ways of life and death, the Didacheaddresses baptism, fasting, daily prayers, the Eucharist, a prayer for after a meal, how to receive teachers and prophets, and appointing bishops and deacons, all with clear directions.[2]These sections appear to be knitted together by an editor or editors, with some portions perhaps being very early texts. The Didache in its final form is almost certainly later than 1 Corinthians, with most scholars placing it after 60 C.E.[3]As a non-canonical text that speaks directly to many corporate Christian practices, the Didache is a great resource for those seeking information on the practices of first century congregations.

           

Sections VII and VIII: Baptisms, Fasts, and Daily Prayers

Sections VII and VIII of the Didache present specific guidelines for three corporate practices not mentioned in 1 Corinthians. Baptismal instructions are presented in detail, including what kind of water to use, and when it is okay to use other kinds of water. Fasts on Monday and Thursday are condemned, with fasts on Wednesday and Friday commended. Finally, the Lord’s Prayer is recounted, with the command to “pray in this manner three times a day” (VIII.3).

The Didacheprovides instructions not only for how to baptize and in what water, but also the instruction that is necessary before baptizing the convert. It appears that the instruction given to those wishing to be baptized is mainly ethical in nature, most likely the “two ways” instructions given in the first sections of the Didache.[4]While it certainly appears from the text of the Didache that baptismal rights were highly uniform and regulated, Bradshaw notes that in comparing Eastern and Western traditions, “the centers of early Christianity were not nearly so uniform in the elements of their baptismal practice as many others have tended to conclude.”[5]It appears that the Didache was in fact not reporting the universal practice of baptism after all.

In contrast to the many details about baptism, the Didache offers very little instruction on fasting. It simply states that Monday and Thursdays are the days “heretics” fast, while the Didache’s readers should fast on Wednesdays and Fridays. Bradshaw offers insightful background on this instruction: Mondays and Thursdays were the regular Jewish days of fasting. The Didache’s author or authors apparently believed differentiation from Judaism was necessary.[6]

In addition, the Didacheprovides perhaps the earliest references to a pattern of daily prayer. What is significant about this early record is that, while it recommends praying three times a day, it does not give specific times for prayer, as later sources do.[7]Some believe that the threefold daily prayer has roots in the first century Jewish community, and its use among followers of Jesus is due to Jewish influence.[8]Bradshaw believes that the practice of thrice-daily prayer was widespread, if not universal, in the first century Church, with some believers holding to fixed hours of prayer and others simply praying in the morning, midday, and evening.[9]

           

Sections IX and X: Prayers for the Eucharist, and More?

            Sections IX and X present prayers for the Eucharist. A prayer for the cup and a prayer for the broken bread appear in section IX, while section X is devoted to a prayer for “after you have been filled” (X.1). Interestingly, the Eucharistic cup and bread are not described as being the body and blood of Jesus, nor are they associated in any way with the Last Supper or with Jesus’ death.[10]This is in sharp contrast with Paul’s excursus into the Last Supper in 1 Corinthians 12. Additionally, section XIV speaks of gathering to break bread and give thanks on the Lord’s Day.

            There are several problems that arise in the relationship between sections IX and X. Most scholars now view this as an early form of the Eucharist, but identifying which part is Eucharistic creates problems. Bradshaw highlights four problems with harmonizing these sections: 1) X.1 speaks of having completed a full meal, but X.6 appears to be an invitation to communion; 2) IX.5, the restriction of the meal to the baptized, makes the full meal itself seem to be the Eucharist; 3) IX.3 and IX.4 suggests that either the meal is the Eucharist or that the bread is broken before the prayer is said; and 4) the prayers in IX and X both parallel each other and seem to be Eucharistic, but how can there be two Eucharists?[11]  Bradshaw resolves these tensions by reminding us that the Didache is a redacted text, and that the order presented here is not indicative of the normative practice of the common meal or the Eucharist.[12]Other scholars have proposed different solutions to the apparent discrepancies mentioned above. Some scholars regard sections IX and X as referring to a common meal and not to a Eucharist celebration at all. Still other scholars say that X.6 is the transition point between the common meal and the Eucharist celebration. More recent scholars have supposed that the Didache reflects two different types of Eucharist in first century congregations: a meal and the bread and wine. Another recent theory about the Eucharist described here is that it is an adaptation of the regular Jewish evening meal.[13]Whether any of these theories is correct or not, what we can know is that, in the Didache, there is no clear, definitive structure for the practice of the common meal or the Eucharist. It is clear that one or both of these practices existed, and that prayers existed, but exactly how the practices were carried out or directions for how they should be carried out are simply non-existent.

Section XV: Bishops and Deacons

            Section XV is a very brief admonition to “appoint for yourselves bishops and deacons worthy of the Lord” (XV.1) with several details about the qualities desirable in such people. It also mentions that these people “serve you in the ministry of prophets and teachers” (XV.1). Unlink in 1 Cor 12:28, where God is the one who does the appointing, in the Didache it is the congregation or congregations who do the appointing.

            Bradshaw relates the prevailing view on leadership in the Didache. Older forms of leadership are being replaced by later standardized models, and as a result tension is brewing in congregations. Charismatic leaders are being replaced by elected bishops and deacons because charismatic leaders are declining in number and quality. These elected leaders now serve the congregations in the roles the charismatic leaders once filled, namely as prophets and teachers. This is why the Didachefinds it necessary to admonish people not to despise them.[14]Again, the Didache reveals not one clear model of leadership, but two models, one being replaced by the other.

The Complete “Christian Gatherings in the First Century” Series:

Part 1 – Introduction, Historical Context of Corinth, and Literary Context of 1 Corinthians
Part 2 – Detailed Analysis of 1 Cor 14:26ff
Part 3 – The Meal in 1 Cor 11:17ff
Part 4 – Leadership(?) in 1 Cor 12:27ff
Part 5 – An Extra-Canonical Source: The Didache
Part 6 – Conclusion

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[1] Bradshaw, Reconstructing Early Christian Worship, 4-5, 102.

[2] Johnson, 34-40.

[3] Johnson, 31.

[4] Bradshaw, Reconstructing Early Christian Worship, 55.

[5] Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship, 146.

[6] Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship, 179. Bradshaw also offers scholastic speculation as to the selection of Wednesdays and Fridays, but that is not particularly relevant here.

[7] Bradshaw, Reconstructing Early Christian Worship, 102. Bradshaw points out that Clement of Alexandria notes a “threefold pattern of daily prayer” at the third, sixth, and ninth hours.

[8] Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship, 175.

[9] Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship, 176.

[10] Bradshaw, Reconstructing Early Christian Worship, 5.

[11] Bradshaw, Reconstructing Early Christian Worship, 40-41.

[12] Bradshaw, Reconstructing Early Christian Worship, 43.

[13] Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship, 119-121.

[14] Bradshaw, The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship, 197-198.