Early Church

As the TIME Magazine article in response to the Pew report closes with:

The survey's biggest challenge is to the theologians and pastors who will have to reconcile their flocks' acceptance of a new, polyglot heaven with the strict admission criteria to the gated community that preceded it.

Personally, I don't have much of an issue with this, after all, I want people who come from a variety of background approaches and life to gather each week to hear what Jesus has to say. In other words, I don't think the gate to the entry to the church should have been there in the first place.

But in Paul's letter to the 1st Corinthians, he writes, "For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes" (11:26). When we consider this in light of Paul's broader work, we get the idea that, by "Lord's death", he's referring to the redemptive work of Jesus on the cross. In the language of my last post, he's talking about the second level, stuff that, according to Pew, most of us ignore.

So, that brings up an interesting question. If eating the body and blood of Christ involves a proclamation of the second level, and according to the recent Pew report most who bear the title Christians don't really view it as a second level faith, who should be coming to the table?

I should pause here and say that I belong to a faith tradition that adheres to closed communion, a practice rooted in the traditions of the Early Church where, following the Scripture reading and sermon, those who were not Christian or were preparing for baptism were dismissed, the doors were closed, and the service continued with the Lord's Supper. This is because we believe that, in a way we can't explain, in the bread and wine we physically receive the body and blood of Christ, the forgiveness of sins, and the strength to live out our Christian life.

Well, in seminary, we were told that the easiest way to determine who should come to the table would be those who profess membership to our denomination (which, dogmatically speaking, is very second level). The idea was that they linked themselves to that body and therefore, in addition to a public linking to a second level confession, they should have been taught that faith as well. However, according to the details in the Pew report, 78% of LCMS Lutherans think multiple religions will bring you to the same destination, which means they aren't holding to a second level confession. (thanks Lutheran Kantor). It seems that somebody simply saying, "I go here." in no way means, "I believe this."

So, how should a pastor respond? Here's my solution, tomorrow, I'm going to do some teaching right before communion. I'm going to talk about the Pew report, the idea of the second level, and invite people to the Lord's Table who wish to "proclaim the Lord's death." I'll also give people permission to stay in their seats if they aren't comfortable making that profession yet. I wonder if anyone will stay seated?

I've been doing a fair amount of reading and digesting lately. First it was Joe Myers', Organic Community, and now it's Alan Hirsch's, The Forgotten Ways. While I'm completely in love with Myers work, Hirsch has me a bit unsure right now. I think there's going to be some great stuff in the book, but it's going to require some serious filtering at points. This brings me to my blog title.

This past week something hit me. Neither emerging groups within the church nor pop-culture have their history straight when it comes to Constantine and the Council of Nicea, and I think the emerging groups, which would include people like Hirsch, are getting their history from pop-culture.

So, what's the pop-culture version? Basically it's that Constantine rigged the Council of Nicea in such a way that it allowed him to turn Christianity into a state controlled religion that would unite the Roman Empire. As a part of this, he picked out the books of the Bible while trashing other gospels accounts that didn't fit his version of Christianity. He also declared that Jesus was God, rather than just an amazing man. So, what can be determined from this is that Christianity is a sham without any legitimate foundation and is all about manipulation and control of the masses.

In response to this, Hirsch and others argue that pre-Constantine, the church had no structure or ritual, but functioned as this organic community where the Spirit ruled and life was amazing. Their goal is to push us back to that state of being Christianity because the problem with it is purely a result of Constantine coming in and establishing order, rules, regulation, and customs (one that Hirsch points to is infant baptism).

So, what's wrong with these views? Well from the emerging Christian side, they seem to forget that early Christian community flowed out of Judaism and therefore, much like Judaism did have order, structure, and customs. You see this well established in Paul's writings where he talks about elders and deacons and other who have specific gifts that are used for building up the body of Christ. In the case of infant baptism, it is discussed specifically by Irenaeus (late 2nd Century), Origen (3rd Century), and Tertullian (late 2nd Century), and implied by Polycarp (late 1st and early 2nd Century) and Justin (early 2nd Century), all of which tells us the infant baptism was happening during the lifetime of the Apostles.

In addition, very early in Church history you have bishops being established in various cities, this includes all of the men mentioned in the previous paragraphs and men like Clement who was the bishop of Rome while the Apostle John was still alive and teaching in Ephesus.

Moreover, things weren't all peachy in the early Church. Before Constantine you'd already had issues with, among others, the Montanists and Novatainists. You also have the over-realized eschatology that Paul challenges in 1 Corinthians and the Apostle John's Epistles dealing directly with a group who'd broken off from the Church and become Gnostics. Then of course you have Arianism which was the reason why Constantine called the Council of Nicea in the first place. He wanted the two major groups in Christianity to sort out a major theological difference on the person of Christ.

So, what does history say about the Council itself? First off, Constantine did pay for it because he wanted the Arians and what we'd now call the Orthodox to get their theology straight. Outside of that, pop-culture's understanding is way off.

When it comes to the books that belonged in the Bible, by the time the Council of Nicea arrive, Paul's letters had been established and passed around as a collection for 225 years and the four Gospels we have in the New Testament had been the only accounts used by Christians for 175-200 years. These well established books were the documents used as the two sides engaged in their theological debate.

As for the deity of Jesus, Larry Hurtado's work, Lord Jesus Christ, clearly demonstrates that Jesus was always considered divine by Christians. When it comes to the Council of Nicea, the debate wasn't about the deity of Jesus, but it was whether Jesus was, in gnostic terms, a demiurge, or if he was co-eternal with the Father. Interestingly enough, Constantine entered the Council on the side of the Arians who, though having the majority position at the Council, we're demonstrated, by Scripture, to be heretical. That's right, the minority ruled (thanks Athanasius).

So, why do I really care about this? Because truth is, there were some major changes that came with Constantine and the legalization of Christianity ... Christianity moved from the margins to the center of society, the culture was Christianized, there was the construction of cathedrals for worship, and appearing "Christian" became politically advantageous. As a result, there was a new understanding of what it meant to be a Christian.

In the Western world today, especially in Europe and the city centers of the US, Christianity is again on the fringe of society. We live in a world that is, spiritually, much closer to the 1st Century than any time since Nicea and there are amazing lessons to be learned from the Early Church on how to share the Gospel in this kind of culture, after all, in the first three-hundred years, the church grew from some 120 people gather in the upper room at Pentecost to somewhere in the range of twenty-million by the time of Nicea.

However, if we have a poor historical understanding, we'll be learning lessons from our glorified delusions rather than those who speak from the past to teach us today. May God grant us clarity in our quest to understand where we've been so we may better understand how to move forward today.