Life and Worship in the Early Church
“The greatness of Christianity lies in its being hated by the world, not in its being convincing to it," writes Ignatius.[1] Post-modern Christians have a hard time relating to many of the attitudes and actions of the early church, which presents itself in more black-and-white, less equivocal terms. The first and second-century writers describe clear-cut congregations and unflinching Christians: churches like those described in The Didache and Pliny’s letters, and believers like Ignatius, Justin, and Perpetua.
Worship in the Early Church
Although Scripture provides all necessary teaching, it might at times leave readers wishing for more detail regarding instructions for worship. How is one to worship God? This is a fundamental inquiry that perhaps finds no formal answer in the New Testament. For instance, Leviticus gives such clear guidelines for worship, but does Paul? No, not to the same extent (though numerous clues are scattered throughout the letters). The Didache, Ignatius, and Justin Martyr, however, shed light on how at least some early Christians worshipped and lived.
The Didache or The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, written at an unknown but early date, surveys foundational beliefs and practices of the faith. The two paths of which Jesus taught, the narrow path to life and the broad path to death, appropriately find allusion in the beginning of the document. Jesus’ other maxims then summarize the core of his teaching. Such an introduction suggests the authenticity of The Didache--that it was at least written by ones who truly wanted to follow Christ.
Didactic comments to those found in the New Testament make The Didache unique and constructive: “Every day you should seek the company of saints to enjoy their refreshing conversation,” and one should pray the Lord’s prayer specifically three times per day.[2] Scripture might not prescribe exactly those measures, but one can see how they are beneficial. Instructions for baptism, the Eucharist, and honoring church leaders, however, are perhaps most surprising. Baptism should be in living (flowing) water, and both the new believers and the ones baptizing them should fast beforehand.[3] It was also done in groups, often. The central act of worship, the Eucharist, was offered for baptized Christians only, with reference to Matt. 7:6.[4] Justin Martyr agrees, and Gonzalez mentions that non-Christians had to leave the room, which some churches today would find offensive.[5] Finally, the church should honor bishops and deacons as higher-ranking, more-honored prophets and teachers than laymen.[6]
Ignatius, “the God-inspired,” also describes proper worship and church leadership, heavily emphasizing unity but also the authority of bishops. He rejoices when Christians in Magnesia and Rome submit “to the bishop as to God’s grace, and to the presbytery as to the law of Jesus Christ.”[7] In fact for him, bishops, presbyters (elders), and deacons preside in place of God, the apostolic council, and Jesus, respectively.[8] Hence, he exhorts the church to only attend “valid and authorized services” though some are doing otherwise.[9] He seems at times to exalt himself too highly, however.
A surprising place to find information about the early church’s worship patterns is Pliny’s letters to Trajan, in which he asks how to go about punishing Christians. Though the questions of seeking and punishing Christians is the focus of the letter, Pliny reports Christians’ summaries of their services:
[They were] accustomed to meet on a fixed day before dawn and sing responsively a hymn to Christ as to a god, and to bind themselves by oath, not to some crime, but not to commit fraud, theft, or adultery, not falsify their trust, nor to refuse to return a trust when called upon to do so. When this was over, it was their custom to depart and to assemble again to partake of food--but ordinary and innocent food.[10]
One may ask what they meant by “ordinary and innocent food,” for the consecrated Eucharist is not “common,” according to Justin Martyr:
For we do not receive these things as common bread or common drink; but as Jesus Christ our Saviour being incarnate by God’s word took flesh and blood for our salvation, so we have been taught that the food consecrated by the word of prayer…is the flesh and blood of that incarnate Jesus.[11]
Probably the Christians in Pliny’s account are defending themselves against accusations of infanticide and cannibalism, which were common. Justin somewhat answers such accusations and more in his First Apology in Chapters 27-29. He argues that the pagans themselves raise up children for prostitution, but Christians cherish their children: “we do not marry except in order to bring up children.”[12] Though he does not explicitly answer accusations of infanticide here, he shows that Christians lead righteous lives even by the state’s standards (except for the fact that they will not worship the emperor).
Justin appeals to reason, inviting all who are led by reason rather than passion to listen to him and give Christians a fair trial. He makes special use of common interest between pagan philosophers and Christians: Reason. It bridges the gap between the Christians’ belief of Jesus as λογος with the pagans’ Stoic notion of universal wisdom. Justin uses his knowledge and appreciation of Greek poets and writers—as well as Jewish-Christian scriptures--to show that all of the useful philosophies from Greeks were, in fact, pale reflections of what Moses and the Prophets said long before any Greeks. Although their imitations were perhaps inaccurate or incomplete, for Justin they seemed to stem from the same source, God, such that “seeds of truth [are] in all men.”[13] The λογος incarnate, Jesus, fulfilled prophecy extending back to Abraham, Justin notes. Greek wisdom not only stems from Jewish-Christian roots, but they even borrow stories for their own myths. There is a lot in common, then, between Christians and pagans, according to Justin. Therefore, if a Christian is guilty of a crime, he says, punish him--but not simply because he wears the name of Christ.
Persecution and Martyrdom of the Early Church
Another aspect of life in the early church that portrays a rather radical (though also reasonable) Christianity is the persecution and martyrdom of the early church. Many officials, indeed, knew not how to respond to (often, anonymous) accusations made against Christians. Pliny proves this point, asking Trajan about distinctions to make in punishing young and old Christians, current and former Christians. Should he issue punishment based on their association with the name alone, or need there be other crimes? His protocol before Trajan’s reply is worth recalling:
I interrogated these as to whether they were Christians; those who confessed I interrogated a second and a third time, threatening them with punishment; those who persisted I ordered executed. For I had no doubt that, whatever the nature of their creed, stubbornness and inflexible obstinacy surely deserve to be punished.
Pliny admits to also torturing two deaconesses and the fact that Christians are cropping up everywhere: “many persons of every age, every rank…of both sexes…not only…in the cities but also…villages and farms.” Trajan suggested they forgive any who denounce Christ, but many Christians were more than willing to follow Jesus unto death.
A prime example of someone not only willing but also desiring to die for his faith, Ignatius pleads with Roman Christians not to prevent his becoming a martyr. For him, martyrdom is the beginning of discipleship, “a clear light,” and even a plunge into manhood: suffering is the path to deeper, truer discipleship. Ignatius often sounds a lot like Paul, but he sometimes seems to go further: “I am going through the pangs of being born…do not stand in the way of my coming to life—do not wish death on me.”[14] For Paul, to live is Christ and to die is gain (win-win), but for Ignatius, to live is only loss and to die is gain (lose-win).
The story of Perpetua’s faith journey presents a fantastic female example of following Jesus in the face of persecution: from Perpetua’s baptism against her father’s will to her time in the dungeon, and eventually, martyrdom. Her story emphasizes the role of the Holy Spirit in the life of the early church, especially pertaining to enduring hardship. The Spirit changes Perpetua’s perspective, when the dungeon appears as a palace to her, and strengthens her faith in visions and eventually, the real amphitheater. Thus, the early church does not purport to be self-sufficient. The Spirit brings new desires and perspectives that enable the church not only to endure but to thrive, especially in the face of opposition.
[1] Ignatius, Letter to the Romans, 3.4.
[2] The Didache, 4.1, 8.3.
[3] Ibid. 7.1-4. Moreover, it gives protocol for the case that living water is unavailable: use non-running water (to immerse the person), and if that is unavailable, pour three buckets of water over him or her, one pail for each member of the Trinity.
[4] Ibid., 9.5.
[5] Justin, First Apology, 66.
[6] Ibid., 15.1-1.
[7] Ignatius 2.1.
[8] Ibid., 6.1.
[9] Ibid., 4.1.
[10] Pliny, Letters, 10.96-97.
[11] Justin, The First Apology of Justin, 66.
[12] Ibid., 29.
[13] Justin, ch.44.
[14] Ignatius, to the Romans, 6.1-2.
