Was the early Church more committed than we are?

Have you noticed how, when people meet a new couple, they often ask: “How did you two meet?” It’s as though we’re fascinated with how things begin, rather than how they continue and endure. It’s a rather odd attitude (what marriage stays forever in its honeymoon phase?) but it seems to extend to our view of Church history too. So often, Christians sigh for the early days of the Church. Surely the faith was purer back then, the Christian community more committed, their determination stronger in the face of persecution…

Well, yes and no. If you read the New Testament, there were all sorts of shenanigans going on in the early Church: a man sleeping with his stepmother (1 Corinthians 5:1), people pretending to give all their wealth when they had actually held some back (Acts 5), greedy Christians scoffing all the food at communion (1 Corinthians 11:17-22). There never was a ‘pure’ church, since it was always made up of fallible human beings.

Peace and love

There is, however, one element of the early Church that we have largely lost and perhaps need to return to. Before Constantine saw a vision of the cross in the sky during a battle, the Church, following in the footsteps of Jesus, rejected all forms of violence. “It is not lawful for me to fight” was the watchword of Christian men. Once the Church got into bed with the powers that be, in the arrangement known as ‘Christendom’, this peace witness was lost and only a few minority denominations, such as Quakers and Mennonites, retain it today.

Further to this, the early Church did not exercise any form of power over its neighbours. It simply lived an alternative way of life, in which everyone was valued and loved equally, sins were forgiven, material goods shared, and “the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved” (Acts 2:47). In his last book The Patient Ferment of the Early Church, the late Mennonite historian Alan Kreider suggests that it was this alternative way of life, rather than any organised evangelistic programme, that drew people to the growing Church – though it also got them into trouble, since in worshipping and following Jesus they were refusing to worship Caesar or follow his ways.

In a very different place 

Kreider goes on to propose that this is a model for the post-Christendom Church too. In other words, rather than trying to persuade people by clever arguments, promises of heaven or threats of hell, we should simply let our distinctive lifestyle and culture do the talking. I’m not so sure. The problem is, before Christendom, Christian faith was a novelty, which people were curious to find out about (and it wasn’t that easy to find out – you had to undergo long training before you could be baptised and participate fully in church life). Nowadays, however, everyone thinks they know what Christianity stands for (mostly, I fear, what we’re against!) and most have already rejected it. 

We are saddled with historic buildings, structures and attitudes that no longer work for our world 

Not only that, but in countries that have been ‘Christianised’ for many centuries, society has been profoundly influenced by Christian thinking, and so the Christian way of life is not so different from the general way. For instance, in Graeco-Roman culture, unwanted female babies were killed or left on a mountainside to die, and only the Christians would rescue them and bring them up; but while sex-selective abortion is still practised in some countries, in the ‘Christian’ countries it is outlawed, because the Church has (mostly) taught us to value both sexes equally.

For this and many other reasons, I don’t think we can convincingly say: “Let’s just get back to the ways of the early Church and all will be right again”. First of all, there is a great deal we don’t know about the early Church and we could come up with several different versions of it. Secondly, we are in a very different society from that of the Middle East in the first few centuries after Christ.

A simplified approach

That today’s Church needs to change is probably beyond doubt. We are saddled with historic buildings, structures and attitudes that no longer work for our world. Paul’s epistles are all about answering the question: “How do we apply our faith to the society we live in?” and we need to ask the same question in regard to our context. And we won’t always find direct answers in the Bible; we need the Spirit to guide us in interpreting both the Bible and the world.

Perhaps the overriding principle is that the Church needs to simplify – and that is where we can indeed learn from the early Church. “Where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them” said Jesus (in Matthew 18:20). It’s a good start.

Does the Church need to change? Read Kate Orson’s view here.